How to Love a Holiday
by TStabler
Summary: A series of 1 or 2-shots. In each one, someone has a reason to hate Christmas. Will a Christmas Miracle change the way they think about December 25th, or will they have to wait till next year and hope for a change of heart? E/O with hints of others!
1. Ringing in Christmas One Shot

**A/N: Okay, so there will be a few "Holiday" fics of mine poppin' up from now till Christmas. This is the first. Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Dick Wolf, Wolf Films and Universal/NBC. Everything else belongs to me, thanks for understanding TStabler©**

"Jesus Christ, I know it's _your_ birthday and all, but could you possibly ease up on the freezing cold weather? Some of us down here on Earth want to live beyond tomorrow." She rubbed her gloved hands together, pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, pulled her hat down over her ears and tried to sink into her coat.

From the moment she walked out of the sqaudroom, she instantly regretted working through Thanksgiving, when it was, at least, warmer. Cragen practically forced her out of the building at half-passed-nine. She was getting the rest of Christmas Eve and all of Christmas Day off, whether she liked it or not. And she did_ not_.

She grumbled as she walked passed the blinking lights and fake candy canes that were hanging on the windows of all of the local businesses. She rolled her eyes as she breezed by the animatronics, the snowmen and the Santas, that were displayed in storefront windows. Some were waving, some were dancing, one agile snowwoman was even spinning in circles on ice-skate-covered feet.

A group of carolers at the corner wished her good tidings of comfort and joy in twelve part harmony. She wished they would fuck off in a single melody. Loudly. "Sorry, I'm not that Catholic," she shouted over her shoulder when an irritated woman told her God didn't condone foul language. As she turned down her street, she grew nauseous.

Every building had a lavishly decorated tree, with flashing lights, in every single window. When she saw her building, though, she just about lost it. Her apartment building had been decorated like a gingerbread house for a month, but her landlord, in honor of Christmas Eve, had placed a behemoth Santa and his eight gigantic, flying reindeer on the roof in such a manner that the front row of seer were leaning over the side of the building, ready for take-off. Rudolph's red nose was blinking, obnoxiously, right outside her bedroom window.

"Oh, I can not wait to see if reindeer really know how to fly," she muttered under her breath, plotting the many ways she could get up there and toss the cheerful fuckers off the roof and down Mr. Bartolucci's throat.

More irritated than ever, she practically busted in her door. She threw her keys on the table tossed her jacket on the couch and looked around, taking comfort in the bland, not-decorated-for-Christmas-at-all-in-any-way-not-one-bit apartment. She smiled, finally free of all the hoopla and nonsense surrounding the holiday that depressed the shit out of her. She was about to sit down when there was a loud knock on her door.

She rested her hand on her gun and opened the door, smiling slightly at her neighbor, Mrs. Henderson. "Merry Christmas, Olivia, I've baked you some cookies." Olivia smiled, warmly and a bit bigger, at the old woman. "Thank you, Mrs. Henderson, but I'm not really a Christmas person. I have nothing to give you in return. I appreciate the thought, though."

"Okay, dear, you tell your husband I said hello, too, and I'll be back with more cookies." The elderly lady walked away, clutching the dish of burnt, extra-crispy cookies in her hands.

"What? Husband? Oh, that woman needs a hearing aid." Olivia closed the door and just made it to the couch, sat down and turned on her television when there was another knock on the door. "Mother fucker," she muttered, rising to answer the door.

"Here you go, Olivia. These do not have nuts, I don't know why you don't like nuts."

"No, Mrs. Henderson, I didn't say anything about nuts. I said I didn't want any cookies. I don't have anything for you, and I don't really like Christmas, so give the cookies to someone else." Olivia said this all a bit louder, hoping the old woman would get the idea.

"Oh," she said with a big nod. "I understand. Okay, Olivia, I'll go make you caramels." The woman gave Olivia a big smile and shuffled back to her apartment.

"What the fuck is...forget it," she said slamming the door. She took a deep breath, walked over to her couch, paused, making sure the crazy old woman wasn't scuttling back down the hall, and sat back down on the couch. It took her a whole two minutes to find a station that didn't have an image of Santa on the screen as she flipped rapidly through the channels, and now she was stuck watching the Discovery Channel's exposé on mating habits of the wild boar. A knock on the door interrupted a particularly interesting moment. Olivia blew her cool.

"Mrs. Henderson," she yelled very loudly. "I hate Christmas, I hate Santa, and I don't want any fucking cookies," she said swinging the door open.

"Well, good, Liv, because I didn't bring cookies." Elliot Stabler stood in front of her with a smug grin on his face. "I brought moo-shoo pork, though. They might have given us fortune cookies, but you never eat those," he said as he peered into the plastic covered paper bag. He looked back up at her, grinning like a baboon.

"El," she said. "What?"

He chuckled. "Well, I said hi to Doorman Pete and he buzzed me in as usual, but on my way up, some little old woman told me to tell my wife that she had to run to the store to get the milk to make the caramels, but not to worry, they'll be here before Santa."

Olivia's eyes widened. "Mrs. Henderson thinks you're my husband! She's old, El. She thinks that if you come and go at all hours of the night..."

"Liv, it's cool." He pushed her aside and plopped the food down unceremoniously on the coffee table. "Wow, uh, no tree this year, either? No last minute change of heart?"

"Why would this year be any different? Nothing's happened between last December and now to make me hate this craptastic day any less, I still don't have a good enough reason to celebrate and I still don't think a tree is necessary." She flung herself on the couch and dove into the bag searching for egg rolls. "The only thing I look forward to is this, and since you come over with Chinese, like, three times a week, it's hardly a Christmas tradition." Chewing on her Chinese burrito, she clarified, "Don't get me wrong, El, I'm gonna be happy tomorrow, I'm gonna enjoy spending time with you and the kids, I've got a present for everyone. It doesn't mean I like the damn holiday."

"Why exactly do you hate Christmas?" he asked, picking up a carton of lo mien and some chopsticks, and sliding onto the couch next to her.

"Everyone gets all happy, and pleasant, and cheerful. Everyone's celebrating 'peace' and 'joy' and the good of mankind, and it's a bunch of shit, El. December 26th everyone goes right back to hating each other and being pissed off at the world. Not to mention, the bizarre display of materialistic affection. Everyone exchanging gifts for no real reason? It's Christ's birthday, shouldn't _He_ be getting the gifts? I mean, we should all go to Church, or donate money to some charities. The whole holiday has been grossly over commercial..." she stopped when she noticed that he had a chopstick and a noodle sticking out of his mouth and he'd been staring at her. "What?"

He slurped the noodle into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. "Well, uh, I love Christmas, Liv. Maybe, we can put one tiny decoration up? For me? Since I'm going to be here tonight?"

"Ugh, okay. Nothing huge, nothing with any dancing elves or flying reindeer. It's bad enough we're gonna have Rudolph's fucking honker blinking in the bedroom window."

"Well, there are no elves, no reindeer, it doesn't fly, unless you throw it, which I hope to God you don't do, and I think it's pretty damn huge, but only if you look at it from a certain perspective." He put his food down and got up off the couch. He walked over to her front door, took something out of his pocket and hung it carefully on a nail over her peephole. "Okay, Liv. There ya go. Merry Christmas."

"I don't see anything, Stabler."

"Well, you have to come here," he said, waving her over with his hands.

She rolled her eyes, pushing herself off the couch. She walked over to him and looked intently at the door. "Is it a wreath?"

"Um, yeah, go with that," he said, his voice starting to crack.

"El, that is the smallest wreath I have ever seen. I hate Christmas, and even I can safely say, that right there is one sucky wreath. It isn't even green. What is it, silver?"

"Platinum," he whispered. He pushed her closer to the door, looping a shaky hand around her waist. "Look closer, Liv."

"El, if I get any closer my nose is going to be up against the," she gasped and tried to move back, but his stiff, muscular body was behind her, stopping her.

"Liv, I know it hasn't been very long, and I know that some people might think this is fast, but I'm not just counting the six months of romance and, well, incredible sex," he laughed, "I'm counting the nine years we've had each other's backs, the nine years we've spent as partners, best friends. My kids love you, I'm in love with you." He reached for the ring and tugged it off of the door nail, slipping it gently onto Olivia's left ring finger. "Olivia Benson, will you marry me?"

Before she could answer him, there was a knock on her door, and it gently opened on its own. "Oh, I'm sorry, Olivia, I didn't mean to open the door. Here are your caramels. I see I have interrupted a romantic moment, so I will just set them here on the floor and you can pick them up later. By the way, your husband is incredibly handsome."

With tears in her eyes, she answered, "Yes, he is, Mrs. Henderson."

"Merry Christmas, Olivia." The old woman shuffled off back down the hall, Olivia turned around a bit to face Elliot. "It is now."

**A/N: Holiday fluff. Gotta love it. Reviews? Anyone? Beuller?**


	2. Letters to an Unnamed Santa Part One

**A/N: This is the second installment of my "How to Love a Holiday" series. It's a Two-Shot. I can see Cragen doing something like this around the holidays, too. =) I think the letters are some of my best personal-narrative writing, and that is saying something. Hope you enjoy =)**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf© owns the characters, TStabler© owns everything else. **

It was December 24th, around 10 PM. Don Cragen was forcing his crew to write their annual letters to Santa, knowing that one of his detectives would stay after the shift to read them and make all of the SVU's last minute Holiday wishes come true courtesy of his personal credit card. It was his way of saying thank you to his staff, his family, really, for all of their dedication over the past year.

They took turns being "Santa" each Christmas, and as Olivia wrote her letter, in her perfect calligraphy, she felt comfortable pouring her heart out to Fin this year. Munch was snickering; his letter was probably going to be full of smart-ass jokes. Elliot had a dreamy look his eyes as his pen danced across his paper. He was probably asking for things for the kids that he couldn't afford or something to spruce up his new house. Fin, who had to write one as well, because only Olivia knew he was this year's Jolly Old Saint Nick, rolled his eyes. He didn't feel comfortable writing down what he wanted. He hadn't written to Santa since he was three.

"Okay," Cragen yelled, "Put your letters in the box and go the hell home. Enjoy the holiday and Santa will drop off your gifts at midnight." The cheery captain put his letter in the red and green box first, and left the sqaudroom with his hat and coat, whistling _Jingle Bells_.

Munch glared at everyone. "If I do not get what I requested in this note, I will not be a happy Munchkin the day after tomorrow." He dropped his letter in the box.

Fin looked up at the man and said, "Munch, man, you're Jewish. You don't even celebrate Christmas."

"Doesn't mean I won't be pissed if I don't get what I want," he said matter-of-factly. "Happy Holidays, folks." He grabbed his coat and left the room.

Olivia sighed, folded her letter in perfect thirds, slipped it through the slot, threw her jacket on over her shoulders, smiled sadly at Elliot, then at Fin and left with out saying anything.

Fin, getting up and tossing his letter, not in the box, but in the trash, looked at Elliot. "You sure you don't mind doing this for me man?"

"No, bud. It's cool. Kathy has the kids tonight. Go make some Christmas babies with Casey," he said smirking.

Fin laughed. "Thanks, man. I owe you." With that, he threw his coat on, slapped Elliot on the back and left.

Elliot cleared his throat and sighed as he lifted the lid to the overly decorated box. He pulled out the letters and laid them on his desk, trying to decide which one to open first. He didn't need to open his own, since he knew what he'd asked for, so he picked up Munch's.

_Dear Santa, _

_Please send me one official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model air rifle. I promise not to shoot my eye out. I would also, finally, like to know who the hell disclosed the true location of Area 51 and where exactly the government is hiding all of the aliens._

_ John Cornelius Munch, IV_

"Jesus," Elliot muttered, laughing under his breath. "That's Munch for ya." Next, he picked up Cragen's, which simply said he didn't want anything, he'd already got his Christmas wish by having his detectives survive through another year. "Aw, Cap," Elliot sighed. As he peered down at the last letter on his desk, his breath hitched. He wanted so badly to make Christmas bright for Olivia, because she hated this time of year with every fiber of her being. He lifted up the paper and ran a finger down the perfectly even fold. "Liv," he whispered, opening it with a shaky hand.

_Dear Santa,_

_ I don't know what the point of this stupid tradition is anymore. I've asked for trivialities in the past, knowing that if Elliot or Munch read anything besides "I want a pony" in my letter, they'd have me in Huang's office faster than you could say "Fuck off." This year, Fin, I am not asking for anything from Santa. Cragen can't give me what I want and neither can you. Please don't try like I know you will. Don't run to him, and talk to him, and don't try to talk to me about this again._

_I just want it to stop. The butterflies in my stomach that flap their wings nine miles per second every time he looks at me, the voice in my head that screams German obscenities every time that shit-eating grin spreads across his face, the nagging, irritating way my heart does the fucking polka when I'm reminded that he took that ugly gold ring off of his finger, I want it all to stop._

_ You told me that I just had to have patience, that it was a virtue. Well, Fin, I've been patient. I'm virtuous, okay, but I'm not a fucking nun. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be waiting for anymore. It's not like I expected him to jump me the minute the ink was dry on the divorce papers, but to have nothing change in over three months? God, Fin, I have signed change-of-partner and unit transfer request forms in the bottom drawer of my desk, ready to be tossed at Cragen's feet. You know when I signed them? The moment I met that blue-eyed, Irish God. The minute I decided that he was the one. The instant I knew that every other man that looked at me, talked to me or touched me was doomed to fail because, whoops, where the hell was my heart? Oh, someone else had it._

_Maybe I fucked up, Fin. Maybe I was the only one who felt all the little shocks whenever we touched. Maybe I'm the only one who lives in constant fear that my whole world will come crashing down if I lose my partner. Maybe that's all we were ever meant to be, just partners. So, for Christmas, Santa-Fin, I don't want a goddamned pony. I don't want a new present. I want something of mine, something that I gave away close to Christmas almost ten years ago. If he doesn't want it, Fin, I want my heart back from Elliot Stabler._

_Olivia_

He let the letter linger in his fingers, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, and he didn't realize until he looked down at the tear-stained letter in his hands that he'd been doing the latter for quite some time, so he let out a quiet chuckle. "She…loves me?" He asked no one. He looked up, glancing at the clock. It was 11:30 PM. If he hurried, and if he didn't hit traffic, he could make it to Liv's before midnight. He smiled as he grabbed as coat, two letters, and keys, and ran out the door, with _no_ intention of fulfilling Olivia's Christmas wish. 

**A/N: Oh goodness! Will Elliot get there in time? Has Olivia already decided she doesn't want him anymore? What if she has a date? Part Two is right there in that scroll bar…just review before you go?**


	3. Letters to an Unnamed Santa Part Two

**A/N: The conclusion of Letters To an Unnamed Santa. Happy reading! **

**DISCLAIMER: Intellectual Property belongs to TStabler©, Characters belong to Dick Wolf©**

Elliot ran down the hallway, out of breath, covered in white, fluffy snow. He had a few still- blinking lights, shards of ornaments and pine needles all over his wool coat from the Christmas tree he ran into, rolled over and destroyed in the lobby. He knocked vigorously on Olivia's door, panting, looking like a human Hallmark Card.

The door opened and the face staring back at him was certainly not Olivia's. "Oh, uh, hello," the man said. He was decent looking, but didn't seem to be Olivia's type. The guy spun around, facing into the apartment and yelled, "Olivia, you have a guest. Did you order a Christmas tree?" the jerk said with a laugh.

"What?" Olivia said coming over to the door. "No, why the hell would I…Elliot?"

She was wearing navy blue NYPD sweatpants and…was that Elliot's Queen's College hoodie? She turned to the man and said, "Thanks for fixing the sink, if it starts spitting at me again, I'll call you."

"Anytime, Detective Benson," he said with a wink. He turned to Elliot as she sidled out of the apartment. "Bye, Buddy the Elf." He walked down the hallway, laughing merrily.

"Who was that, Liv?" Elliot said, staring after the guy, making sure he walked away. Far away.

"My landlord, El. Why do you look like Christmas threw up on you? And what are you doing here?" She stepped aside allowing him to enter, and she closed the door behind them.

"Well, uh, I had to race to get here in time, I used the portable light and turned on my siren, and then when I pulled up to your building I ran through the foyer so fast that I didn't see the tree in the lobby and fell over it, well, I fell through it, actually, but I didn't stop running, I just kind of rolled to my feet and ran up the stairs, so here I am, and it's eleven-fifty-six, so I only have four minutes to do this," he said, talking so fast she'd hardly understood a single thing.

"Woah, wait, what?" she asked. "Do what? Four minutes?"

"Liv," he said as he pulled her letter out of his pocket. Her eyes widened and she backed up, slowly. He took a step forward and continued. "Fin, uh, asked me to be Santa…"

"No, no, no, no, no," she repeated quickly. "You didn't read that, right? Tell me you didn't read that. Fuck, you read that?" She turned around and hit her head against the wall.

"I read it, Liv. I read it three times."

She lifted her head up, only to have it come down against the wall again with a loud thud. "Perfect, the one time I don't ask for a fucking pony."

"Liv, look at me," he demanded gently. He stepped closer to her and put his pine scented hand on her cold shoulder. "Please, just look at me."

"Christ, El. Why? So you can destroy me in person? So you can gloat? You came all the way over here to, what, break it to me gently? Okay," she turned to face him, hot tears slowly leaking from her eyes. "Just do it."

"You can't have your heart back, Liv," he said, his voice starting to crack. "Not unless you really want it. But, at least…read my letter first." He pulled another piece of paper out of his pocket, handing it to her, his hand shaking a bit. Was he actually nervous?

She took the letter from him, sniffled and wiped her eyes, and unfolded it. As her eyes drifted across the page, taking in the first few lines, she sucked in a breath and her normally large doe-eyes grew bigger.

_Dear Olivia,_

_ I know we're supposed to be writing to Santa, but since I'm now this year's lucky Kringle, I'm writing to the only person who can really give me what I want this year. You. I'm about to tell you what I've been going through for the past, oh, ten years. Yep. Ten years. Christ, Benson, do you have any idea what it's like sitting across from you over here, having the constant desire to kiss your soft lips, run my fingers through your silky hair, or hold you close when we've had a bad day? Do you know what it was like wanting to do all of that while I was married? The internal conflict that caused? Do you know how funny I thought it was that I didn't care?_

_ Lately, though, I've found myself scared shitless. Now that I am allowed to do all of those things, I'm terrified. Having the wall, the boundary, the line I couldn't cross that kept me from you, it kept me from possibly ruining us. If I had kissed you, touched you, and you turned me away, and I screwed us up, Liv, I couldn't take it. So, I kept running back to Kathy, out of fear that if I finally allowed myself to make my move, with you, I'd lose you. That's why I still haven't. I'm still fucking petrified, out of my goddamned mind, that what I want and what you want are two different things, and I don't want to be the one that hurts you, hurts us. _

_ Why am I writing this to you? What I want for Christmas this year, Liv, is to ask you to give me an answer, tonight, a sign of some kind, to let me know, that if I do what I've been dying to do since the moment Cragen said 'Elliot, this is your new partner,' that it will not destroy us. _

_ Of course, if this is asking too much, there's this really nice watch at Macy's you could buy for me. I didn't check the price, but it didn't look that expensive. I love you, Liv._

_ El._

She looked up from the letter with more tears in her eyes, threatening to drop, and met Elliot's gaze, letting the paper fall gently to the wooden floor below. His stunning sapphire eyes were boring directly into hers, and he stepped forward, causing her breath to hitch. He took her hands in his, pulling her into him, until they were nose to nose. "I'm not giving you your heart back, Liv. I'm keeping it, if it's okay with you, but if you want, you can have mine," he said in throaty, low whisper, not trusting his voice to be even and steady if he spoke any louder. He rubbed her nose lightly with his, keeping his eyes focused on her hot-chocolate orbs, only glancing to side quickly to check the time. "It's eleven-fifty-nine, Liv, I need an answer."

Sliding her hands out of his, and up his arms, over his shoulders, she looped them around his neck. Her eyes fluttered closed and she pressed her lips to his, gently at first, pulling back for a moment before slanting her lips over his in much more forceful manner. He let his tongue trail lightly over her bottom lip, and she, obligingly, opened her mouth slightly to grant him the access he so desperately craved.

As their tongues wrestled for dominance and their teeth nibbled and bit each other's lips, their hands, seemingly working on their own, grasped, clutched, ripped, tore and pulled, leaving their clothes in a pile beneath them. They had completely lost control. They were like hungry lions that had been starving for months when someone finally threw them a steak. Olivia realized, she was completely aware, that this was happening, that they were standing in her living room in their underwear, about to sexually assault each other, but she was too far gone to stop it, and she didn't really want to.

It was Elliot who pulled away, breathing heavily, hands wrapped around Olivia's lithe body. "Holy fuck," he muttered. He looked around and he peered down at the mess of tattered clothing at his feet and chuckled. "Well, almost, anyway."

"Why?" Olivia asked, "Why are we stopping? I don't wanna stop." She placed light, soft, butterfly kisses on his chest and shuddered, shivering from the excitement, the nerves and the cold.

"Oh, we're not stopping," he assured her. "Just pausing for a second. I've just, ya know, this is," he mumbled, trying to find the right words. Finally, he looked down at her and sighed, brushing a few sweaty hairs out of her eyes. "Liv, I've waited for this moment for years. I'm not going to waste it by shagging you silly up against the wall in your living room. This," he said waving his hand back and forth between the two of them, "Should be special. Our first time should be in there, in the bed." He smiled warmly at her and kissed sweetly, tracing the defining lines of her abdominal muscles with his finger. He pulled away again, nuzzling the crook of her neck. "And with the heat on 'cause I'm fucking freezing," he said with a laugh as he picked her up in arms and carried her toward the bedroom.

She was giggling. Who knew Olivia Benson could giggle? She looked at the clock next to her bed as Elliot set her down on it and turned up the thermostat. Her face lit up. "Hey, El?"

"What, baby?"

"It's twelve-thirty."

"Yeah? So, what? We have the day off tomorrow, and Kathy's not dropping the kids off until two, so we have plenty of time to…" he turned around to face her, and he paled when he saw her bra dangling from her fingers. He gulped as he watched it drop gracefully to the floor.

"Merry Christmas," she said seductively. He pounced on her with a laugh and kissed her, slowly and terribly passionately. She pulled away, remembering that she forgot to tell him something after she read his letter. "By the way, El, I love you, too."

He grinned, the smile that made her brain curse in German, and bent his head down to kiss her, preparing for their long night of passion.

As the snow fell heavily outside, piling up on the streets of Manhattan, two people stood below Olivia Benson's window, looking up in wonderment.

"Do you think it worked?"

"Well, Stabler's car's still here, and judging by the inches of snow on it, it has been for a while, so I'm guessing it did."

"How'd you even know what she'd write in her letter?"

"Casey, I know my Baby-Girl, she opens up to me. Why do you think I told her I was Santa in the first place?"

The blonde A.D.A snaked her arm through Fin's elbow and pulled him further down the street. "Elliot really told you make Christmas babies with me?"

"Yeah, flat out thinks I'm trying to knock you up, as we speak," Fin said turning to face his fiancée.

Casey smirked at Fin, with a twinkle in her eye. "Well, you'll have to go into work on Saturday and tell them you did that on Thanksgiving."

He looked at her wide-eyed and choked a little, but smiled, then he laughed and pulled Casey into a hug and kissed her deeply. "Man, I love holidays."

**A/N: I decided to end it with Fin and Casey, because you never did find out what he wanted from Santa. =) Thoughts? Thanks for reading!**


	4. Baby, Jesus One Shot

**A/N: This is a bit different from my other fics. In this one, characters aren't so morally upstanding.**

**DISCLAIMER: Characters=Dick Wolf All else= mine With love, TStabler©**

_Today. December 24__th__. Three months ago. September 24__th__. We had a rough day, he went home to his family, but then came by my place, more excited and happy then he'd been in a while. We didn't even make it to the bedroom. He threw me up against the wall, and then the kitchen counter, and then we made it to the bedroom, a few times. Was it the wall? Or what? When did this happen? God this is not happening. This can not be happening. _

"Liv," Elliot shouted, "Snap out of it." He was holding a cup of coffee over her desk. She looked offended. "Liv, you okay?"

"Yeah, I can't drink that though," she pushed the cup back toward him roughly, causing some of the blackish brown liquid to spill out all over the open file on his desk.

"Christ, Liv," he yelled, backing away.

She flinched, rising suddenly. "Sorry, I'm sorry." She ran over to the coffee counter and grabbed paper towels, immediately running back to Elliot and handing them over with a shaky hand.

He took them from her, more worried about her than the file, and he wiped the coffee up quickly before pulling her into a corner of the squadroom.

"Are you okay, Liv? You're all jumpy, and you've never refused coffee before." He brushed an errant hair out of her eyes and continued, "Did I do something? Are you mad at me?"

She looked into his blue eyes, smiled, brushed a hand against his cheek and shook her head. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into her touch and he kissed her palm. She felt the tears filling her eyes as she turned away from him and ran into Cragen's office. A moment later, she returned, her eyes red and puffy, grabbed her coat and left the bullpen, nodding gently at Elliot as she walked past him.

He bolted out of his chair and stormed into his captain's office, demanding to know what had just happened.

* * *

As she stood before her large, doorless closet, with the big, black garbage bag in her hands, her mind raced. She didn't plan this, but he hadn't planned Maureen either, and a part of him resented Kathy for it. She couldn't let that happen. She had to find a way to let him off the hook. Heaving a sigh, and vowing to figure it out later, she started pulling the boxes off of the shelf and tossing them into the bag. A photo slipped free from its sleeve, falling out of the album in her hands. She picked it up and she whimpered. The picture had been taken the day their affair had started, at the surprise birthday party that Munch and Fin had planned for Cragen, when Elliot pulled her aside and siad he couldn't keep living a lie.

She didn't know how she'd let it go on for three years, or how she'd let herself believe that she was content with being the other woman, but she surmised that as long as she had him, had some part of Elliot, her world was easier to live in. It wasn't enough anymore. It hadn't been enough in a while, but she wasn't strong enough to end it, because he made her so weak. Now, she had a bigger problem.

She tossed the photo, album and all, into the bag and started pulling the clothes out of the closet, tossing them on her bed. Satisfied that the closet was empty, she stepped into it and held out her arms, spinning around, trying to determine if this was a big enough space to stick a crib and a changing table. Her cell phone rang, pulling her from her calculations and she walked out of the bedroom to answer it, hoping she didn't sound like she'd been crying.

"Benson. No, Dickie, I'm home. I haven't spoken to your father since I left, why? Oh, uh, no, he didn't mention that to me. Thanks, but I think I'm just gonna stay home tonight, sweetie. Christmas Eve cookie baking is a family thing, and your mother isn't my biggest fan, she hardly considers me...what?"

Whatever the youngest Stabler boy had been explaining, he might as well have been saying in Mandarin Chinese, because Olivia had stopped listening after he said "mom's gone." She heard the words "months," "divorce," "finalized," "today," and "present," but she wasn't sure in what order they were supposed to go, or what the words in between them were. Who was divorced? Who was getting a present?

Her door swung open madly, hitting the wall with a crash, but she didn't jump. She sat on the arm of her couch, expressionless, with her cell phone to her ear. Elliot, who was standing before her, grabbed the phone and said harshly, "She'll call you back," as he snapped it shut and threw it on the couch. He knelt down in front of her and searched her eyes for some kind of hint as to what was wrong.

"Liv, Cragen wouldn't tell me shit," he said to her. "Baby, what's wrong? Please, tell me."

"Baby," she said, as the corners of her mouth tried to twist up into a smile. She wanted, so badly, to be happy about this.

"What, honey?" he replied, kissing her sweetly, caressing her, loving her.

"No, El," she said, bringing the hand that was cupping her chin down to her wont-be-flat-for-long belly. "Baby."

"Baby?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then, suddenly, as if a light bulb had been turned on in that gorgeous head of his, his jaw dropped and he yelped, "Baby!"

Olivia nodded, holding back a laugh, because goddamn it he looked adorable.

"You and me, we made a tiny person, a b-b-baby?" Elliot looked at her and, fuck all, he was smiling. "We're having a baby!"

Olivia looked confused and tried to process his emotion before emitting one of her own. "You're not mad? You're not upset? You're not going to throw up?"

Elliot kissed her, more passionately than ever, and said, "Are you crazy? Why would I be mad or upset? I'm a little throwy-uppy, but I get that way every time I find out I'm having another kid." He looked at her as the realization set in, and then he felt like such a dumbass. "Oh, Jesus, I wanted this to be a surprise, but I didn't think," he paused. He took a deep breath. "Kathy."

Olivia grimaced at the sound of her name.

"Three months ago, when I told her about us, right before she told me she was having an affair with a surgeon, I filed for divorce. Then I sat the kids down and explained everything, to which they replied a unanimous, resounding 'Duh.' They're all taking it very well by the way, well, except for Maureen, who kind of hates all of us and wants to become a nun."

"Wow," Olivia said on a sharp exhale. "So that's what Dickie was trying to say."

"Uh, no," Elliot said. "What Dickie was trying to say, because he can't keep his big mouth shut, was that this," he said pulling a brown paper package out of his inside coat pocket, "was supposed to be part of your present. It's sort of the reason I had to tell the kids we've been together for three years, which, of course, they'd already figured out."

"El, what is this?"

"Open it," he said, nudging her cheek with his nose.

She pulled open the large envelope and, pulling out a stack of papers, she smiled. They were his signed divorced papers, and something else that Olivia had to read to understand. Her face contorted into a painful scowl and she was crying when she'd finished.

"How is this part of my present? You, you can't do this. El, I can't…you can't be serious…" She looked at him, wanting to yell and scream and hit him, but when her eyes landed on him, kneeling on one knee in front of her, and the ring he was holding out in front of him, she understood why he'd signed the transfer request forms.

"I was supposed to do this tomorrow, under the tree, while the kids unwrapped their presents. I can always ask you again, for their sake, but this moment, right here, seems perfect to me. Liv, I love you, and that tiny life inside of you, more than you could possibly know. You're the one I'm meant to be with, Liv, forever, always. Marry me."

She blinked. And instead of answering him she looked into his eyes and asked, very seriously, "El, when did you say you told them about us?"

Confused, and still holding the ring out to her, he said quickly and quietly, "Three months ago, Liv, why?"

"El, did you come here? After you told them?"

"Yeah, Liv. Remember? I told you. I came in and I…never got to tell you because we…oh wow," he said as his eyes widened. "This whole time, you didn't know."

"No," Olivia said, "And it's been killing me." She wiped the tear that fell down from her left eye as it reached her cheek. "But El, I found out yesterday, I'm three months…"

"What? We…that night?" He peered into her beautiful brown eyes, astonished, and kissed her tenderly. "Well, I guess I was really eager to stake my claim on you, huh?" he asked with a hearty laugh.

Olivia smiled, her eyes settled on the ring in the box. She reached her hand out to touch Elliot's cheek, but found herself cupping his chin and pulling him in for a deep kiss. "Yes," she said.

Elliot sighed, rubbing her leg gently. "Liv, I don't wanna push you here, but I'm dying. You gonna answer me?" He jiggled the black box.

"I just did, El. Yes, I want to marry you and have this baby and I wanna go home with you tonight and bake Christmas Eve cookies and I wanna be everything you've ever wanted," she babbled as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

"Oh, Liv," he said with tears in his eyes. "You already are."

**A/N: Probably a bit hard to believe, but it's fiction, after all. =) Click the green button and Dickie will bake you a special cookie.**


	5. Where Are You Christmas Part One

**A/N: This is another Two-Shot, and it's, again, different from what I usually write, taking my Liv and El to a slightly angry place in part one. It's a bit of an AU, as it takes place closer to the beginning of their partnership, and who the hell is Kathy? ;) Enjoy "Where Are You, Christmas? Part One"**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf's characters appear in TStabler's story. Please, be nice, and don't steal the words, plots, ideas or other such things that belong to her, thanks. **

She sat alone in the bullpen, scribbling notes in files and typing a DD5. She glanced up at the clock and growled. Why the hell was it already six? Cragen was kicking everyone out at six-thirty. The Vice squad was coming in and taking calls and if anything important happened she'd get a call, but the entire squad had Christmas Eve off, especially her.

Cragen noticed her attitude lately. The rings under her eyes, the slump in her shoulders, the permanent scowl etched on her face. She was more aggressive than usual, almost breaking a perp's arm in an interrogation last week and today she and her partner got into a knock down, drag out fight, ending only when she punched him. He was going to hit her back. She would have welcomed it. She even yelled, "Bring it on, Stabler," but Cassidy grabbed Elliot's hand before it could make any contact with Olivia's face.

All he did was call her "kid" and she started in on him. It was all this damn holiday's fault. She got like this every year. Most of the SVU squad hadn't had time to figure that out, but when they did, and when they found out why, then they'd pity her and that was something she just didn't want.

"Six-thirty, people," Cragen shouted from his office. "All of you, out. I don't wanna see you back here until Saturday. That goes double for you, Benson."

Rolling her eyes, she ripped her jacket off the hanger and tugged it on, not really having any idea where she was supposed to go, now that her plans had been so rudely abolished. She thought about, maybe, going to see her mother, but changed her mind quickly, deciding that she'd rather get a root canal from a monkey then spend five minutes with that woman. Particularly, today.

She pushed open the door to the precinct and chose a direction at random, walking in a clear, direct, straight line. She looked around at the snow covered cars, trees, and buildings as she stepped, crunching over the wintery sidewalk. She whizzed passed all of the festively decorated storefronts and the Christmas music blaring from the open doors of bars and restaurants made her ears bleed. Suddenly, a man flew out in front of her. He'd been shoved out of a bar and his girlfriend was yelling at him. He'd called her a name she didn't like. She was really letting him have it, too.

"Honey, woah, listen," the man said, trying to calm her down. "I didn't say it to upset you. I didn't know you were having a bad day, and I didn't mean…"

The rest of the conversation faded away as Olivia walked by, speeding down the sidewalk. That's exactly what happened with her and Elliot today. He didn't mean to insult her, and she had no right to flip out on him. She punched him! Shit, she messed up. She took out her cell phone to call him, wanting to apologize, when someone ran into her, knocking the phone out of her hands. She watched in horror as the tiny flip phone bounced three times before plopping gracefully into the drainage ditch. "Bloody brilliant," she mumbled, rubbing her shoulder where the son of a bitch hit her.

"Off to Queens I go," she muttered, "Need a fuckin' taxi now." She turned the corner and stopped, in awe of the sight before her. Across the street, a little girl and her mother were lying in the snow, making snow angels. The girl popped up and pointed down at the indention she'd made in the white blanket over the lawn. Beaming with pride, the young mom scooped the tiny child into her arms, planting a kiss on her nose, and hugged her close. The mother and child, laughed and made silly faces at each other, before flopping back into the snow together, waving their arms and legs, making a new pair of loving angels.

Olivia sighed, let a single tear fall and took a step to her left. She was surprised when a gloved thumb reached out and wiped the tear away, but she didn't look at the owner of the hand. Her eyes stayed glued to the mother and child. "You know, I made a snow angel for my mother once. She yelled at me for ruining the snow and hit me so hard she knocked out two of my teeth. Thank God I was only five, and they were baby teeth, right?"

The hand that wiped away her tear clutched her jacket and pulled her into a hug. She still didn't look up, she was still watching the young girl and her mother. "And, while I was crying and bleeding, she handed me a shovel and made me go outside and flatten out the angel. I had to use a goddamn ruler," she snorted. "The best part, though, was when she told me not to bleed on the snow."

She wrapped her arms around the man, who was now running his gloved fingers through her hair, and allowed a few more tears to fall. "I haven't made a snow angel since," she said as she sniffled. "The year after that, we made Christmas ornaments in art class at school, little wreaths out of the green and red bowtie pasta. I was so proud of mine, because, you know me, it was perfectly even and I didn't spill any of the glue."

"That sounds cute," the man holding her said.

Olivia scoffed. "My mother didn't think so. She cooked it and gave it to me for dinner, and she even thought she did me a favor by throwing some ketchup on it. Thank God, the glue was non-toxic." She finally looked up at him. "You wanna hear about the year she went to a Christmas party and came home so drunk that she thought I was a burglar? She hit me over the head with the telephone. Twice. And then she yelled at me and kicked me until I left the apartment. How about the year she got hammered and tried to donate me to the Salvation Army? Or the year she left me locked in the apartment, with no heat, by myself, for three days, so she could go away with some accountant named Frank."

"Christ, Liv," he said squeezing her tighter.

"How did you find me?"

"I didn't have to find you. I followed you."

"Oh," she sighed into his warm wool coat. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Yeah. It's Christmas Eve. Everyone has somewhere to be."

"Well," she said, pulling herself off of him and wiping her eyes, "Go then, because unlike the rest of, um, everyone, I have to be nowhere, so I'm going to wander aimlessly around this city until I find a spot, that serves alcohol, filled with people who hate Christmas as much as I do."

"Liv, I'm not going to let you walk around New York by yourself on Christmas Eve."

"You don't have much say in the matter, El. You said you have somewhere to be, so go be there."

"I'm already there," he said, taking her hand again. "I have to be with you."

She was taken aback, shocked really. "El, I don't think so. I'm not very nice on Christmas. I've had twenty-six shitty Christmases and this is shaping up to be the twenty-seventh."

"Oh, it hasn't been that bad, has it?" he asked with a smirk.

"I woke up without heat in my apartment, I accidentally pushed Munch down the steps, Cragen thinks I need anger management, Cassidy's fucking in love with me, I punched you in the face, which I'm sorry about, so sorry about, and this stupid imbecile pushed me and made me drop my phone into the sewer," she said all in one breath. "Face it, El, I attract some pretty bad Christmas mojo."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and wiping away her remaining tears. "Well, I happen to attract incredibly awesome Christmas mojo, so either we'll cancel each other out and have a normal, boring evening, or I will get my way, which is what usually happens," he said with his classic shit-eating grin, "And you will have your very first, happy Christmas. At least, let me try, Liv. I hate seeing you like this." He ran his free hand up her arm and brushed her cheek with the back of it, the gentle caress sending chills down her spine.

"You've got your work cut out for you, Stabler. Christmas and Olivia Benson have never gotten along," she said, giving in.

"Oh, I can do it," he said with a wicked gleam in his eye. "In fact, Liv, would you care to make a little bet? If I can help you find Christmas, there's something you can help me find in return."

**A/N: You know you wanna review and read the next chapter, right? Right?**


	6. Where Are You Christmas Part Two

**A/N: Who doesn't love a good bet? Here, we find out the conditions and who the winner is. Does Elliot help Olivia find Christmas? Read on, my friends.**

**DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Dick Wolf, original writing is mine, Tstabler©'s. =)**

Not one to pass up a bet, Olivia looked at her partner and smirked. "And if you can't? If Christmas still sucks large, hairy snowballs?"

"Then I'll do all of the paperwork for every one of our cases for the next three months."

"Wow, El. You're a bit cocky," she said crossing her arms. "But you're on."

"Good." He shoved her down into the snow-laden yard behind her, and flopped next to her.

"What the hell, Stabler?" she asked in an angry tone, attempting to push herself up. He reached up, grabbing her hand, and pulled her back down into the pile of cold, crunchy, wet, ice crystals. "Benson, shut up and make a damn snow angel."

"Elliot, I don't wanna make one, I'm not five. This isn't going to be..." He put his hand over her mouth and pushed her down into the snow, so she was lying in it. "See, look," he said as he moved his arms and legs, spreading the snow around, making an angelic shape. "It's fun."

Olivia rolled her eyes and moved one arm a few inches. Then she moved it a little more. Then a little more. Then the other one joined in, her legs started to move, a smile spread across her face and, yes, she laughed. "My ass is freezing, El, but I gotta hand it to ya, this is kinda fun."

"Phase one of Operation: Save Liv's Christmas is complete," he said as he hopped to his feet. He reached out a hand, which Olivia took, and they stepped onto the sidewalk to admire their work. "You're angel's got a cuter ass than mine," he quipped. Olivia looked at him, her mouth open and her eyes wide. "It's a two dimensional impression, El, it doesn't have an ass." "Oh, right! Sorry, must be thinking about the girl who made it then," he said winking at her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the street.

"Okay, if that was phase one, then what is phase two?" she asked, unaware that he had taken off his glove and laced their fingers together.

"We only have fifteen minutes till they close, so be ready to whip out your badge if you need to, we're getting in, even if we're late." He pulled her a little faster and turned right, crossing the street. Then, he pulled her into a run, down Thirty-Fourth street and ushered her into Macy's.

"Your brilliant plan to erase a lifetime of horrible Christmas memories includes shopping?"

He tapped her on the nose and blew a raspberry at her. "No, smartass." He elbowed his way through a crowd of people, keeping Olivia clutched tightly in his hand, until he saw what he was looking for, just up ahead. He pulled out his badge and held it up in front of the fat man. "Excuse me, sir, we have to get back to the precinct, so, could we, please, cut in line. We'll be fast, I promise."

"Anything for New York's finest," the jolly man said.

"No way, El."

"Come on."

"No."

"Liv, we're holding up a line of people here," he said as he practically shoved her into the photographer's chair. "Now, uh, I'm gonna sit here," he said sitting on the high seat next to Santa, "And you, my darling, are going to sit right here." He had positioned her so that she was sitting on Santa's knee, but Elliot had wrapped his arms around her, giving the impression that he was standing behind her.

"Okay kids, one...two...three!" The woman, dressed like an elf, snapped three pictures. On the third, Elliot, the sneak, had planted a kiss on Olivia's cheek. Since they were cops, the elf handed them all three Polaroid photos and didn't charge them. "Merry Christmas, you two," Santa said as they walked out of the "Wonderland"

Laughing as she looked at the pictures in her hands, she turned to her partner. "You lied to Santa! Catholic boy, my ass. You're crazy! I can't believe I just did that. You made me do that!" She smiled, so brightly, at him. "You believe that was my first ever picture with Santa?"

"Get out," he said in disbelief.

"Hand to God, El." She slipped the picture of him kissing her cheek in her pocket and handed him the other two. "You want these?"

He took them, smiling, and looked down at them. "Hell yeah, I do."

She couldn't help it. She bounced up and down a little as she clutched his hand and asked, "What's next?"

Elliot looked her and feigned shock. "Is that excitement in your voice, Benson? Are you, perchance, looking forward to Christmas Eve shenanigans?"

"Don't get all conceited about it, you haven't won the bet, yet."

"Ah, that is the operative word, Liv. Yet." He swung his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close, and he took her on a Christmas-Window tour of Manhattan, pointing out the most famous holiday displays in storefronts like Saks, FAO Schwartz and Bergdorf Goodman. Elliot's heart swelled at the smiles and laughs bubbling out of Olivia. He loved watching her face light up at the different ways the electronic animals and mannequins moved and danced about. He'd never seen her looking so happy.

They walked passed Rockefeller Center, looking at the glorious tree, but only for a moment, because, honestly, it was really just a big tree. Elliot had something else in mind. Something truly special. Two more blocks and they paused in front of a beautiful black horse-drawn carriage.

"M'lady?" Elliot gestured to the carriage with one hand while holding the other out to her, helping her climb inside. She looked at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow as he climbed in after her. The man at the helm gave a hearty "H'yah!" and they moved, venturing off into Central Park.

"Okay, I'm not a Christmas expert, El, but what exactly does a carriage ride through the park have to do with Christmas Eve?"

"Nothing, Liv," he said scooting closer to her. "But uh, that, up there," he said looking upward, "is a big part of Christmas. Well, for us grown-ups anyway."

"What is?" She followed his gaze, and hanging directly above them from the hood of their seat, was the most delicate bundle of mistletoe she'd ever seen.

"Now, there's that tradition that says two people under the mistletoe have got to kiss, but I'm a big boy, Liv. You're not gonna hurt my feelings if you don't pucker up," he said, only half-genuinely, as he took her hands and looked into her eyes. "But, to be perfectly honest, I would like nothing more than to kiss you right now."

Her heart stopped. She even put her hand to her chest to check. Yep. Stopped. Dead. Not beating. She tried to control her ragged breathing as she saw him coming closer, closer, and she tried to remember how this kissing thing was supposed to work as she felt his lips brush lightly against hers. She lifted a shaking hand to his face, inching it slowly toward the back of his head and that was his cue to press on.

Sparks. Electricity. Enough to light up that fucking giant tree for an entire decade. Two pairs of lips twisted up into smiles against each other, two tongues tentatively poked out, seeking permission to dance, and then permission was granted. Two pairs of arms entangled and groped until a comfortable cuddle had been achieved. And as the two mouths slowly separated, two breathless voices spoke only one small word.

"Wow." The pair chuckled at their simultaneous outburst.

Not letting go of her, Elliot looked at Olivia and cleared his throat. "So, um, I saw the way you've been laughing, and you smiled more tonight than you have in the two years I've known you, so I'm pretty damn sure I won the bet. I found your Christmas."

"Yeah," Olivia replied, her radiant smile still plastered on her face. "No paperwork for you." She laughed and playfully slapped his arm.

"Nah, partner, we get to share that shit," he said with a smirk. "But, you have to hold up your end of the bargain. You've got to help me find what I want this Christmas."

She rolled her eyes and smirked. "Okay, El, I _am_ a detective. Whatever it is can't be that hard to track down. What is it?"

"Your heart."

Her face went blank. Damn it. Her heart had just started beating normally again, too, and he went and made it stop again. She smirked, then she smiled, she giggled, then it became a cheer filled laugh. "Oh, Elliot."

Stunned, shocked, and definitely not laughing, Elliot looked at her. "What's so funny? Liv, I'm not joking."

"No, I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because you, you beautiful, wonderful man, have just made Christmas my favorite holiday." She pulled him toward her by his shirt collar and kissed him again, with just as much fervor as their first. "As for my heart, you found it two years ago. It just took you a while to realize that you had it."

"So, you won't punch me if I tell you I love you?"

"Try it," she said with a shrug.

"I love you, Liv."

She raised her hand, but instead of punching him, she gently grazed over the bruise she'd left on his cheek from their morning scuffle. "I love you too, El."

They looked out in wonderment at the huge flakes of snow falling around them. Elliot told the man to take them around the park one more time, and he pulled Olivia tightly to him, kissing her under the mistletoe, slowly making her forget that Christmas could ever have been horrible.

**A/N: I'd kill for a day like this. I guess that's why I wrote it. Reviews make me feel like makin' snow angels! **


	7. Elle One Shot

**A/N: Trying, yet again, to take a different spin on things, and give them Christmas Miracles. What if it was Elliot that had gone to Oregon, under different circumstances? NOTE: Kathy and El split up after having Kathleen. The other kids, therefore, do not exist.**

**DISCLAIMER: L&O: SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf; This story and scenario belong to TStabler©**

It was below zero and snowing like hell, but she walked in without a coat on, no gloves, no hat, no scarf. She just had a sweater with a turtleneck on and a cup of coffee in her hands. Before she even got both feet into the bullpen, Munch's voice rang out.

"Merry Christmas, Li-"

She shot him the most horrifying glare he'd ever seen, and if he thought for a single second she had laser vision, he would have ducked under his desk. He stopped talking immediately. Was it because he said "Merry Christmas" or because he was about to call her "Liv?" Either way, if she was pissed off when she woke up, now she was fucking homicidal.

"Good goin', Munch," Fin spat as he immediately rose to wrap an arm around Olivia's shoulders. She was ice cold, but it didn't seem to bother her. That happens when you're numb. She brushed Fin's arm off of her shoulder violently, because she was beyond comforting, and sat at her desk, staring at the empty one across from her.

Everything was gone. His phone. His coffee mug. Even the pictures that had been taped down to the top of the grey, metal surface. Had it really been a year already? A year since the fucker ran off without telling her? Since he took off to play the hero for the fucking FBI? Since he had been forced to be a fucking martyr and go into the program with the child who witnessed the murder of his parents? Couldn't they have sent another cop who didn't have a fiancée or two kids who couldn't live without him? Why did he have to leave on Christmas anyway? Why, when she was going to give him the biggest news of their lives while they sat by the fire and exchanged their gifts? His was still unopened, on the mantle, dusty and untouched.

She was in such a daze as she stared at his evacuated seat that she hadn't noticed Captain Cragen next to her, or heard his voice the first time he spoke. "Olivia!?"

"Oh, what?" she asked, still staring at the chair, as if she expected him to materialize in front of her at any moment.

"I asked you how Ellie was, and you said, 'mother fucker.' I assume you were not talking about your daughter."

She paled and tightened her lips. She must have been grumbling out loud. "Sorry, Cap. No, she's a little angel, aside from the fact she won't sleep through the night, eat till she's full or ever have any idea who her father is."

Cragen's heart broke. "He's coming home, Li-" She stopped him with that evil glare again. "Olivia."

"How do you know that? How do you know he's even still…" A tear rolled down her cheek and she stopped breathing. She lied awake most nights convincing herself that he was fine. This was the first time she let the thought, the dreaded yet possible thought that he might be dead, enter her mind, and it felt awful. Cragen, with tears in his eyes, cleared his throat. "Go home, Olivia. You can't be here today. Not like this." Cragen rubbed her back and she didn't argue like she usually did. She simply walked out of the bullpen.

The walk home had been uneventful; she ignored the pitiful looks passersby were giving her and by the time she reached her place, her tear ducts had frozen over, so the crying had stopped. She pushed open to door to the fruity-blue house and smiled at the sight before her.

"Hey, Olivia. She just fell asleep. What are you doing home?"

"Cragen kicked my sorry ass out because it's Christmas," she said as Maureen handed her the sleeping five-month-old.

"Oh," the pretty blonde said with a sad smile. "He'll be back soon. He would never have left us if he had a choice. You know that," she said, sounding so sure.

"I know," Olivia whispered. She looked down at the baby in her arms and knew that underneath the tiny closed olive-toned eyelids, she had the beautiful sapphire-blue eyes of her father. How she longed to look into the orbs of the man who passed those genes down to her! "Mo, listen. Just go. I'm sure your mother would love to have you and Katie spend Christmas with her and Carl and the other kids. Ellie and I will be just fine sweetie."

"You sure? I hate leaving you alone here," she said as she rested a hand on her would-be-step-mother's cheek. She noted that it was terribly cold, but thought it best not to mention it.

"I'm sure." Maureen pulled Olivia into a warm hug and kissed the baby gently on the forehead. "I love you, Olivia. I'll go get Katie from school then, we'll be home tomorrow morning." She bundled up and left, locking the door behind her. Olivia cradled little Ellie in her arms and walked over to the rocking chair next to the lavishly decorated tree, sat down and sighed. She didn't really want Maureen to go. She didn't really want to be alone on Christmas. She didn't really think that she was going to be fine. She just didn't want Maureen to see her break down and cry. She held the sleeping infant to her chest, for dear life it seemed, and let a year's worth of unshed tears finally pour out of her cloudy, lifeless eyes.

An hour later, after the baby had woken, cried, ate and fell back to sleep, Olivia walked her to the nursery and laid her in the crib, making sure to face her toward her daddy's photo just in case she woke up. It would be the first thing her tiny, little eyes spotted. Olivia made sure she knew her daddy, even if she'd never _get to know_ him. She smiled sadly as she left and walked into her bedroom, changed and cried herself to sleep.

She heard the noise and jolted awake, pulling her gun out from its home under her pillow. She leaped out of the bed and slid against the wall, holding the gun up, ready to aim and fire at whoever was in the house. She padded lightly out of the bedroom, into the hall, her heart in her throat. She scooted into the nursery and checked on Ellie, who was sound asleep. Relieved, she sidled back out into the hallway and narrowed her eyes at the figure standing by the fireplace. He looked ragged and rather large, and she gasped when she saw that he had Elliot's present in his hands, and he had opened it.

"Drop the box, put your hands in the air, and get the hell out of my house before I shoot your balls off," she commanded, aiming her gun and cocking the trigger. The dark figure didn't move. He sniffled. He was…crying. "Great, I get the sensitive home invader," she quipped.

The figure stepped away from the tree, away from the fireplace and into the moonlight pouring in through the picture window. He had the sonogram photo in his hand, which was shaking, and as he looked at the note, that had been written a year ago, he calculated. "She was born on July twenty-first, right? She's five month's old, now?" She dropped her gun, letting go of the trigger, and her eyes welled up with fresh tears. "Elliot?"

"We have a baby?" he asked, stepping toward her, pulling her into his arms, the tears streaming down his red cheeks. She couldn't speak, so she just nodded. "I'm so sorry, Liv. I didn't…I can't believe I missed…you were all alone and…" Her mouth was on his before he could finish his sentence. This kiss was emotional and hungry and passionate and desperate. She ripped her lips away from his and looked longingly into the eyes she missed so much. She cupped his face with her hands and, even though he was unshaven and stubbly, she ran her soft, delicate hands down his cheeks. "You're here. You're really here," she repeated over and over, trying to convince herself that it was true and not a dream.

"Yeah, I'm here." He slanted his lips over hers again and devoured her completely. He pulled away, slowly and peered into her eyes. "I want to meet my child, Liv."

She grabbed his hand and led him to the nursery, quietly stepping up to the dark cherry wood crib. "Oh, my God. She's beautiful. What's her name?" He took off his torn, tattered coat and tossed it on the floor. Then, he reached a hand into the crib and stroked the tiny cheek, earning a small smile from the slumbering angel. "Ellie. We call her 'Ellie'. Her name is Elle Angelica Stabler. She's…"

"Named after me?" he asked suddenly turning toward Olivia. "You know I never wanted…"

"I didn't know where you were. If I was ever going to see you again, El, if she was ever going to know who you were. I was scared and when she came out of me and they handed her to me and I looked into her tiny blue eyes, I saw _you_ staring back at me," she explained, crying. "I gave her her name because I couldn't survive another day without saying yours."

"Jesus, Liv," he, crying again, too, pulled her back into his arms. "It's perfect, Liv. _She's_ perfect. _You're _perfect. I missed you, so much." Another terribly tragic kiss, and they were lost. He picked her up in his arms, though they were aching and bruised and scarred, but he cared not, and carried her into their bedroom, laying her carefully in their bed, tearing his shirt off once she was out of his hold.

She stared at him. He had, if possible, gotten more muscular and she thought maybe she had started to drool. He thumbed the buckle of his belt open and yanked his faded, well-worn blue-jeans down and off, leaving Olivia very surprised to see he hadn't been wearing anything underneath them. He threw himself gently over her, like a warm blanket, and covered her with kisses and caresses as he lifted her long satin nightgown up and over her body.

He noticed she'd lost weight, he'd noticed the dark circles under her eyes and as he dropped the red fabric to the floor he noticed the barely healed bullet wound on her shoulder. He pressed his cold, chapped lips to it, Olivia hissed and flinched, but she thought it was the most beautiful gesture. "God, Liv, I'm…"

"Shh…El, don't." He looked up into her eyes as he slid into her for the first time in a year, causing a great gasp and moan of pleasure and pain from her and a deep groan of immense relief from him. "I should have been here. I didn't want to go. You have to know that," he whispered to her as he buried himself to the hilt.

"I know. You're here now. You're home." And he was. Inside of her, in their bedroom, across the hall from their sleeping daughter, on Christmas, he was home. "Merry Christmas, baby," he cooed in her ear as he began to move in a blissfully ponderous tempo. She smiled, wrapping her leg around his hip, drawing him in deeper, and cooed back, "Oh, Elliot. Merry Christmas."

**A/N: See? Happy ending. Reviews, please?**


	8. Be Careful What You Wish For One Shot

**A/N: I apologize to those who've read my stories and couldn't comment. I didn't know I disabled anonymous coms. All fixed! Comment away! This story is typical, but still, somehow, slightly original, I think. SMUT ALERT! **

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline and dialogue, and original characters, belong to TStabler©**

The black box made its way around the precinct, the ring catching the light and blinding everyone as they looked at it.

"You sure you wanna do this, man?" Fin asked his fellow detective.

"Yeah, well, it's what she said she wanted for Christmas. Who am I to say no?"

"But you've been married before, dude, how do you know this time is gonna be different?"

Munch rolled his eyes. "I don't. But, they say the sixth time's the charm, right? And she's an A.D.A. She'll argue her way out of everything and convince me I'm always wrong so I'll feel too _guilty_ to divorce her."

Elliot tossed the ring back to his friend. "Congratulations, man. You are gonna make Alex very happy." He then turned his attention to his partner and said, in a congenial manner, "Liv, you never told me what _you_ wanted for Christmas."

She was typing up a DD5, rapidly, and didn't look at him as she answered, quickly and under her breath, "You. Leave your fucking wife, show up at my apartment wearing nothing but a smile and a big red bow, and fuck me until I can't remember what year it is, what city I live in or my own goddamn name."

"What?" he said with a blink and a raise of his eyebrows.

She glanced up at him and said loudly, "A pony. El, I want a pony." She hit the enter button, clicked the print icon with her mouse and stood up. "And that, my friends, was my _last_ DD5." She laughed at did a little dance. "You all suck, and are slow. I am leaving, goodbye. Oh, I hope she says yes, Munch." She grabbed her coat and her keys, then gave each one of her pals a hug. "Happy pointless stupid Holidays, guys." She smiled, looked at Elliot, who _winked_ at her, and she left.

Her entire walk home was spent wondering why her partner had winked at her. What the hell? She opened the door to her apartment and then she understood. There, in the middle of her floor, was a Faberge horse. She's seen it in the window of an antique store while investigating a rape with Elliot. She couldn't believe he remembered. She also couldn't believe he _paid_ for it. It was pretty damn expensive. She smirked as she ran her hand along the intricately carved and bejeweled back. Elliot got her a pony.

She had finally finished cleaning and rearranging the furniture, and she had found the perfect place for the horse, when there was a knock at the door. "Hang on," she ran to a jar on the mantle and took out a wad of cash. She opened the door, flipping through her money saying, "I don't have anything smaller than a twenty so I hope you have change because I'm not giving you a ten dollar ti..." She stopped speaking when she looked up and realized it was not the delivery guy.

Elliot was standing there, with a bow on his head, smirking. He was wearing his work suit and a wool coat, and he was holding the bag of food she was waiting for. "El, you've got a bow on your head," she said pointing.

"Oh, do I?" He rolled his eyes up, trying to see for himself, chuckling. "Wonder how that got there." He took it off and stuck it to his jacket. "Can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Kathy and the kids? And why do you have my food?"

He took off his coat and sat on the couch, noticing that it was in a new spot. "I'm here because I wanna be here. I haven't seen Kathy in weeks and I sent the kids to her for Christmas. And, I have your food because I saw the Mr. Chow's guy in the elevator and knew exactly who he was coming for, so I saved him the trip."

She stopped listening after "...in weeks" so she had a very confused look on her face. "Where did Kathy go?"

"I kicked her out after I caught her in bed with our chiropractor. Guess he was really trying to crack her back," he mused with a wink.

"Why...why didn't you tell me?" she asked, sitting next to him. He laughed. "I just did, Liv. We've been working relentlessly on the Fontana case, which pissed the both of us off royally, so I didn't think making you want to kill my wife was a good idea." He opened the bag and pulled out the egg roll, taking a bite before handing it to her. "Besides, I knew you'd figure it out eventually."

Taking the egg roll from him, but not biting it, she made a wild hand gesture sending bits of shredded cabbage and pork flying. "How the hell was I supposed to figure it out? Were we going to play 'Personal Problem Charades'? Guess My Crisis? Marital Problem Pictionary?"

Elliot burst into a fit of laughter and clapped his hands. "No, no, no, Liv." He stopped laughing, looked her in the eyes and took the now-empty-shell-of-an-egg-roll out of her hands. He cupped her face and said, gently, "I knew you'd figure it out when I came over on Christmas Eve and kissed you." He leaned in and pressed his lips to her, gently, but Olivia had other ideas.

She grabbed his face and deepened the kiss, running her tongue along his lower lip. His lips separated a bit and their tongue touched lightly, then rubbed together, then began dueling wildly like knights at a joust. Together, as if it was planned, as if they knew, they got up off of the couch and the layers of clothing began to peel off.

He removed her blouse as she pushed off his jacket. They toed their own shoes off, then helped each other with the pants. Elliot pushed his boxers down, too, because they'd just get in the way, later. He ripped his shirt off and unhooked Olivia's bra as they walked, him forward and her backwards, to the open door, all the while their kiss remaining frenzied and unbroken.

She stopped when her knees hit the bed and she fell onto it, taking Elliot, who refused to stop kissing her, along for the ride. His hands grazed her taut body, running over her hard abs and soft thighs, and he couldn't help himself he lit his finger slip into the elastic waistband of her silk panties and she gasped, clutching the sides of his face tighter, but still kissing him. He ran his hand around her hip, teasing her, pulling the band away, tugging on it, then finally his nimble digits stopped, and pulled the material aside completely and caressed the soft, bare mound of warm, wet flesh it had been hiding. Olivia's hips jerked upward, but Elliot laughed and bit her bottom lip.

"Have you been a good girl this year, Liv?" he asked, kissing her neck and sliding a finger down her dripping folds. She moaned as loud as he did. "Well, up until now," he added with a nibble to her earlobe. She nodded.

"Good." He pulled his hand away and did the most erotic thing she'd ever seen. He looked right into her eyes and brought his hand to his lips, and licked her wetness clean off of his finger. Then, he looped his fingers through her panties and slid them off of her legs, sliding his hands back up her smooth thighs as he crawled over her. "What year is it, Liv?" He eased one finger into her, groaning into her neck. She dug her nails into his back, and breathlessly answered, "Two-thousand-nine, El. This is really odd pillow talk," she muttered. She pulled him up a bit and kissed him as she felt another finger join the first, stretching her, and begin pumping a frantic rhythm.

His lips against her mouth, pumping her hard and fast with his hand, he thumbed her clit, earning a delicious sound of pleasure from her and he asked, "What city do you live in?"

"Oh, fuck, Elliot. New York."

"Nice," he whispered, ripping his fingers out of her roughly, licking them clean, and positioning himself over her creamy, ready, core. "What's your name, baby?"

She peered up at him, her nerves shattered. "Elliot, we haven't really thought this through and we are about to do something tremendous that could ruin us and instead of talking about what this means for us and our jobs you're asking me if I know my fucking name."

He smirked. He gave her that shit-eating-I-know-what-I'm-doing-classically-Stabler-grin "What... is...your... name?"

"Olivia," she said as she felt him push inside of her, gently, causing an immaculate feeling of intense pleasure with just a twang of pain. She saw stars, fireworks, she heard a fat lady singing opera and saw pigs flying and if she looked out the window she'd swear those cows would be coming home. "Why, El?"

"Liv, you told me what you wanted for Christmas this morning." He pushed in further and dropped a sweet kiss to her lips.

"Yeah, thank you for the pony."

He laughed, nuzzled her nose and pushed in further, enjoying the feeling of her nails in his back. "No, baby, _before_ you said you wanted the pony. I intend to give it to you. We have tonight, and all day and night tomorrow, and I fully intend to not _fuck_ you, but _make love_ to you until you can't remember any of the answers you just gave me." He pulled out of her slowly, then thrust back, looking into her eyes, letting out a moan and a low, sexy "Oh, God, Liv."

"Christ, El. I can't believe you... holy shit, you feel _so_ good...heard me," she said, whimpering and writhing beneath him. He chuckled again, and still going slow and deep and still looking lovingly into her eyes, he kissed her and fingered a few locks of her hair. He pulled away and, looking down, said, "I love you, Livvy, but you really need to be careful what you wish for."

**A/N: Now, who doesn't want a pony for Christmas? Thoughts? Reviews?**


	9. Kids Christmas Plan One Shot

**A/N: Another tale of holiday miracles, in an slightly AU-ish world.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline narrative and dialogue belong to TStabler©**

December 1st

She was holding the baby boy in her arms, rocking him gently to sleep. She watched as the other four Stabler kids excitedly decorated the huge tree in their living room, laughing and throwing tinsel and fighting over who would put the angel on the top.

"Liv, why don't you do it?" Dickie suggested.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "You've been like our angel this year. It's only fitting."

"Oh, Lizzie, baby, that's so sweet, but no, thank you. I want to stay as far away from that thing as possible. I'm going to go put Eli down." She walked into the nursery and closed the door.

"Daddy, why does Liv hate the tree?" Lizzie asked, turning to her father, who just hadn't been _happy_ since Kathy died. He knew...even the kids knew it was because he didn't feel guilty about letting Olivia move in and take over so quickly. He didn't feel like it was wrong to be so comfortable with another woman in his house, taking care of his family. He did, however, feel guilty that he wanted her to share his _life_, his _bed _and his _heart_. He wanted to do that for a long time but couldn't let her do _that_. Not _yet_. Could he?

Picking up the fallen tinsel from the floor, he replied, "Liv doesn't hate the tree, peanut, she hates Christmas." He walked into the kitchen and the plan was hatched.

Maureen looked at her siblings and smirked. "I know how we can make dad happy_ and_ get Liv to like Christmas." Dickie looked up at her and said, "I am not dressing up like Santa and coming down the chimney again!" Kathleen smacked him in the head. "No, doofus, just listen!"

December 12th

Dickie was standing in the nursery with a squirt bottle, waiting for his cue. Maureen was standing by her bedroom door ready to give it to him. Lizzie was peering out, listening intently at Olivia's door for a sign that she was awake. Lizzie pointed to Maureen, who signaled to Dickie, who said "Sorry about this, kid," then squirted a blast of cold water over his baby brother, causing him to wake up, wiggle and cry.

Olivia, awake, immediately ran into the nursery and turned on the light, scooped the baby into her arms and shushed him, then changed him out of his wet clothes. Elliot, unaware that Olivia was already in there, ran into the nursery, but stopped in his tracks when he saw her standing in the room, cradling the baby, and singing to him. She had the sweetest voice, and she was singing the song that Elliot had once told her Kathy used to sing to his kids.

A tear rolled down his cheek as he stepped up to her and put his arm around her. "Hey," he whispered. She looked up at him and whispered back, "Hi, daddy." Unsure of what came over him, he kissed Olivia on the forehead. "Do you have any idea how amazing you are?"

Just beyond the door, four hands met in the air in a carefully calculated and silent high-five.

December 19th

Olivia came into the house, dressed up in a stunning black dress. Elliot, in a spiffy suit, was sure he was drooling. "What are you doing back here?'

"Clark called me just as I left. He said he needed to organize an emergency research session. Some hospital in Russia found a vaccine for Pnemocyatic...something, and now he has to find one, too. Funny, I'm not that upset. I was only going to this thing because I wanted to prove I could still get a date."

"You, Liv, could make Brad leave Angelina by just looking at him," he said with a smirk. He then yelled up the stairs. "Kathleen come on, honey. You wanted to go see this stupid show, now let's move or we're gonna be late!"

Maureen helped Kathleen down the stairs in a fluffy robe, coughing and sneezing. "Daddy, I don't think she can go anywhere, look at her!"

"Well, that's...honey how did...you were fine this morning."

"I dow dat dad, but I cant..." she sneezed all over Elliot and he yelped. "Okay, okay. Maureen, I already bought the tickets, go get dressed and..."

"I can't daddy, I have to study for winter semester finals!"

"Dad," Lizzie said. She flicked her head in Olivia's direction.

Elliot smiled brightly, smirked and cleared his throat, then held out his hand and bowed to Olivia. "Ms. Benson, would you care to join me for an evening of fine dining and moderately crappy theater?"

She laughed and took his hand. "I would be honored, Mr. Stabler." They told the kids to call if they needed to and headed out.

"Okay," Dickie said. "I knew Katie was gonna bail on dad, but how could we have been certain Clark was gonna bail on Liv?"

Lizzie cleared her throat and said, in a very thick Russian accent, "Docta Petuhs, I haf found zee cure for zee highly contagious disease known as Pnemocyaticalatosis. If you do not provide one in zee next three months, Russia will rule in zee Medical profession. Death to zee Americans. Muhahhahaha."

December 21st

Lizzie and Dickie peered into the kitchen and saw their dad, making a sandwich, and knew that if they spoke _just_ loud enough, he would hear them, and being their father, he'd intentionally listen.

"Okay," Lizzie whispered, "start talking."

"Why do I have to start?" Dickie asked in a harsh whisper. "Come on, you fool, just do it!" she whisper-screamed.

He sighed and loud enough for Elliot's benefit, said, "Hey Lizzie, I'm worried about Liv." Lizzie answered, "Me, too. It's so sad, really. Feeling the way she does, and not getting anything in return."

Elliot thought they must have been talking about Clark, so he ignored it.

Lizzie continued. "I just hope she doesn't _leave_ because of it, I love having her here."

Elliot, with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth, poked his head out of the door.

"I know, Liz. Liv is like a mother to us, now, and I don't want her to leave just because she's in love with dad."

They heard the clash from the kitchen and knew that he'd just dropped his plate.

December 22nd

Maureen and Kathleen were hanging out outside Olivia's room talking at quite a high volume. "Maureen, I'm worried about daddy. He can't keep torturing himself like this. Does he think we're going to be mad at him for moving on? It's not like we didn't see this coming, since like, ten years ago."

"I know, Katie, but I think he's afraid of rejection, I mean, she hasn't given him _any signs_ that she wants him. So maybe she has to _do something,_ ya know?"

"I guess, but, what if he tells her and she freaks out?" Kathleen asked.

"Please, the great Olivia Benson freak out because dad tells her he's in love with her? That will never happen!"  
The loud thud from inside the room told the girls that whatever heavy book Olivia had just been reading was now on the floor, and she had lost her page.

December 24th

Yesterday had been awkward. Elliot and Olivia had been nervous and twitchy around each other, their comfortable banter replaced by terse one-word answers. Every time their eyes would meet, they'd look away quickly, and whenever they touched they'd jump back three feet. It was so odd.

They had talked it out this morning and Olivia walked in tonight, feeling relieved, until she met Elliot in the hallway. He held a finger to his mouth, "Shh!" He pointed into the living room.

Dickie was on a chair trying to hang mistletoe in the middle of the room. There was also a bundle over the couch, above the entrance to the kitchen and coincidentally, right above their heads, right now. "Why didn't we just buy mistletoe hats and stick 'em on their heads?"

"Why didn't I think of that?" Lizzie asked.

"Because it's a stupid idea, moron! I was kidding! This whole thing was a stupid idea! What if we screwed up, guys? What if that Clark guy was the one that was supposed to make Liv all happy and junk?"

Maureen scoffed at her brother. "You see Liv being happy with a guy named Clark who wears a pocket protector and collects germs for a living?"

Kathleen interjected, "I can't see Olivia with anyone but dad. They belong together." Olivia looked at Elliot.

"Me either," Lizzie said. "To be quite honest, I thought they were going to get together even before mom died, you know? I just knew. They've been in love with each other for a very long time." Elliot looked at Olivia. They smiled at each other, looked up, and nodded.

Dickie broke in. "I know! I mean, we've been plotting and planning and_ lying_ and I squirted water on Eli for pete's sake! Liv still wants nothing to do with Christmas, and I think we actually just made them _scared_ of each other. You saw how freaked out they were yesterday! Our plan _backfired_. Not to mention, I'm allergic to this crap, and it's all over the house. They're going to look up and find the one spot we don't have this junk and stand there all night just so they _don't_ have to kiss. You know that, right?"

Maureen laughed and said, "Oh, little brother, I don't think so." She gestured toward the hallway, and through the arch, under the mistletoe, Elliot and Olivia were wrapped in each others arms in a very passionate kiss.

As they pulled away, smiling and nuzzling each other, they turned to the kids. Five beaming faces, as Maureen was holding a smiley Eli stared back at them. "Okay, I may hate myself for this," Kathleen said, "But we know that dad's happy right now."

"Beyond happy," Elliot corrected.

"But," Kathleen went on, "Olivia Benson, tell us, how do you feel about Christmas?"

Olivia looked at Elliot and gave his hand a squeeze. Then she pulled all of the kids into group hug, telling herself not to cry. She stepped back and looked up at the ceiling, unable to find a single safe place to stand where she wouldn't be under mistletoe. Giving up, she shrugged, pulled Elliot closer to her and said, "I think it sucks." She kissed Elliot as the kids looked at each other, very confused.

Olivia pulled away from Elliot and laughed at their bemused faces. She pulled them all into another giant hug as she said, "I think it sucks that Christmas only comes once a year."

**A/N: The next story will be a Two-Shot, and involves some pretty odd Christmas miracles.**


	10. Messages From Above Part One

**A/N: This story is the following Christmas, after Kids Christmas Plan. Enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline narrative and dialogue belong to TStabler©**

Dickie and Lizzie were in the middle seats, next to Eli's carseat, fighting over the remote to the DVD player. Maureen was in the back, reading a book, her winter-break assignment, but that was college for ya, and Kathleen, next to her, had her iPod on, ignoring the world. Elliot, behind the wheel, looked over at Olivia in the passenger seat. Her left hand was resting on her very large belly, the huge diamond rings sparkling in the light.

They had gone to visit Kathy's grave that morning, each kid wishing her a Merry Christmas and laying down a red poinsettia, and Elliot told her all about the wedding and Baby Stabler number six. Then they ventured out to the family get-together. The doctor had warned Olivia not to travel, but she, being who she was, told him to bite her, she was spending Christmas with her family. This had been a long road trip, but one they'd promised Kathy's parents they would make, swearing that they wouldn't kick them out of the family because Kathy had died.

They were on a stretch of road, in the middle of nowhere, in upstate New York, heading home, when it happened.

"Ohh, that's not good," Elliot said, looking at the gauge on the panel of the SUV.

"What's not good?" Olivia asked. Elliot pressed his lips together and cocked his head. "We are, uh, running out of gas."

Dickie and Lizzie stopped fighting. Maureen dropped her book. Eli made a gurgling noise, which Olivia was pretty sure meant, "What the fuck did you say, dad?" Kathleen didn't hear him and Olivia, trying to stay calm, just said, "Well, let's find a gas station then."

"Uh, there aren't any out here, baby. Not until the highway, which is a good twenty minutes from here. We're not gonna make it."

Olivia glared at him. "Just drive, El. When we see a place to stop, we'll stop. Drive slow, turn the radio off and turn the heat down." He eased off the gas, and flicked the switches on the radio and heater, which should save them a few gallons.

"Way to go, Dad. Shoulda stopped at the Fill 'N Swill by Grandpa's," Dickie snorted. "Hey, we had half a tank when we left! Or, well, it might have been a quarter of a..."

Olivia snapped. "Quarter?! You let us pull away from a city that is two hours from home with only a quarter of a tank of, ow!"

"Liv, where were you born?" Lizzie asked. "I've heard people call it petrol, oil, lube, gas, and some cultures in the western parts of central China call it Ting-Mai, which means 'greasy tea'. But, I have never heard someone call it 'ow' before."

Olivia clutched a hand to her stomach, and leaned back in her seat. "No, honey. I meant 'ow', as in pain 'ow'." Elliot's head snapped toward her, his eyes widened and he panicked. "Honey! Liv, baby, are you okay?"

"Elliot, watch out!"

He turned his head back to the front just in time to swerve and not hit the only other car on the road, coming toward them from the opposite direction. "I'm fine, El. Drive, please. It's probably just pains from stress. Ohhhh, or not." She started breathing, quickly and heavily. Dickie and Lizzie leaned forward in their seats Maureen put her bookmark in her book and dropped the thing to the floor, smacked her sister in the shoulder and alerted her to what was happening.

The car, the stupid, stupid, car, started sputtering at that very moment. "Oh, come on, no! Not now," Elliot cried pumping the gas and hitting the wheel.

"Baby, beating the car up is not going to make it go anymore," Olivia said as another contraction hit her. "Ow, sweet Jesus! Oh, my God, I am not ready to be a mother."

Maureen, from the backseat, said, "Liv, you already are. An amazing one." Olivia craned her neck back, and smiled at her step-daughter. "Oh, thank you, Mo. That means so much, but, I meant, I'm not ready to be a mother right _now_, in the car, on a dark road in the middle of East North Nowhere." Elliot, with the last of the gas, pulled over to the side of the road and whipped out his cell phone. "Okay, baby, hold on. I'm gonna call a bus and... I don't have service. Do any of you guys?" One by one, every child, except for Eli, took out their phone and responded in the negative.

"If you call 911 from a cell phone without service, it'll go through, right?" Dickie asked.

"That's if the phone's not activated. Not if it doesn't have reception. There aren't any towers out here," Lizzie said in her matter-of-fact manner.

"Oh, that is just fantabulous! Have I mentioned how much I _hate_ Christmas?" Olivia said, grabbing Elliot's hand, squeezing, and breathing through another contraction. "Liv, these are coming at you awfully fast. How long have you been having these pains?" he asked as he kissed her cheek and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "The pain just started, El. I swear. I was feeling kind of funny before, but I thought it was the turkey Kathy's father made."

Elliot looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Baby, how _often_ were you feeling funny?" he asked in a knowing tone. She looked at him, sheepishly. "Every half hour or so." He chuckled and then he lowered his forehead to hers, kissed her, and looked into her eyes. "You've been in labor all day, you silly, silly, girl."

She giggled and said, "Oops."

"Mo, Katie, could you please get out and walk around on the side over here and try to get some kind of signal on your phones?" Elliot asked his oldest girls.

"Sure, dad," Kathleen said, opening the rear door and sliding out.

Elliot pushed the button, turning his emergency flashers on, and looked back down at Olivia. "Honey, I don't wanna scare you, but if we can't find help soon..."

"Stabler, I am not having this baby in the front seat of a sports utility vehicle! We don't even have blankets, or hot water, or, I dunno, a doctor! I am going to have this baby at Mercy General as planned if you have to get your ass behind the car and push us there yourself! Ow! Holy monkeys, you are never touching me again," she cried. "If you do, I will murder you and they will never find your body!"

"Awesome! We're gonna get to see Liv kill Dad!" Dickie shouted. Lizzie, Olivia and Elliot glared at him. "I was kidding, guys, chill!"

Maureen could be seen through the window, climbing a tree to find a signal, while Kathleen was standing on the guardrail on one foot with the phone raised high in the air.

"Ohhh, God, El, this hurts." Elliot looked at Olivia and a determined expression took over his face. "No," he said sternly.

"No? What do you mean 'no'? Ow....oh, boy, or girl...whoo." Elliot let go of her hand and leaned over her. "I mean, No, you're not having our baby in the car." He rolled the window down and yelled, "Girls, get back in the car. We're taking Liv to the hospital!"

Maureen and Kathleen hopped out of their high places and scuttled back to the car. Olivia looked over at her "Elliot, we don't have any gas the car isn't even going to...owww....start!"

"I gotta try, baby. " He turned the key, three times, but the car wouldn't turn over. Elliot looked up, eyes toward the heavens and begged, turning the key one more time. "Come on, my baby is not having my baby in this baby." If there was ever a time to believe in Christmas miracles it was now.

**A/N: How they gonna get out of this jam? Review and continue?!?**


	11. Messages From Above Part Two

**A/N: Ohh, help comes along. I wonder how they knew?**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline narrative and dialogue belong to TStabler©**

"Dad," Dickie yelled. "Grandpa's here!"

"What? How in the world?" He opened the door and got out of the car, meeting Frank, Kathy's father, as he walked up to the car. Elliot threw his arms around his ex-father-in-law and squeezed. "I don't know how you knew, but thank you!"

"I've only got room for you and Olivia, but Maggie is going to stay here with the kids. She brought food and blankets, and we called a tow truck. It's on the way. Come on, Elliot. Let's go make you a daddy. Well, uh, again." Frank and Elliot walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, hearing and grimacing at, Olivia's cries of pain. They each wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her to Frank's truck.

"Elliot, how did they know..."

"I don't know, baby." She almost collapsed from the pain of another contraction, but Elliot's strong, powerful arms kept her standing. He helped her into the seat and buckled her up. "Frank, please, drive fast."

"Wait," Olivia yelled. "How much gas do you have?"

Frank and Elliot laughed. "A full tank, you pretty, young thing. Let's go meet your son, huh?" He started the car and they took off, speeding, down the open road.

"Or daughter," she said through gritted teeth.

"Oh? You don't know, yet? The person who kept texting me said it was definitely a boy," Frank said.

"Texting you? None of us had any service," Elliot said flabbergasted.

"Here," Frank handed Elliot the phone and he flipped it open between himself and Olivia, who was now in full Lamaze mode, gripping tightly to Elliot's arm.

The messages were short. _Elliot and Olivia stuck on Rt. 82. Kids fine. Olivia in labor. Baby boy will not be born in car. Please, go help. Olive Juice . _

Olivia, baring through the pain of another ripping contraction, squeezed her eyes shut. "Elliot, that isn't possible. It just is not possible," she cried, sweating, hurting and trying to hold on to her husband's hand. "Well I know, baby, no one knew..."

"Elliot, my mother...used to call me 'Olive', and instead of saying 'I love you', because, let's face it, she just wasn't capable, she used to say 'olive juice' because if you just mouth it, without saying it, it kind of looks like you're saying 'I love you'."

"That is something, Liv." He looked at the phone in amazement, turning it over in his free hand, and he paused to look at the number. "This was...but that's just silly, really."

"What," Frank said as he pulled the car off the road and turned onto the highway, bringing them into Manhattan. They were five minutes from Mercy General.

"The number that these texts came from is the phone number from the emergency cell phone the squad gave Kathy, so she could call me when she went into labor with Eli. Liv, the phone was crushed when the car hit you guys," he said in amazement.

They pulled up to the Emergency Room and Frank got out of the truck, grabbing the nearest doctor. As Elliot helped his wife out of the car, they both popped their heads up and gasped when they heard what Frank said to the man he was talking to. "My son and daughter-in-law are gonna have a baby in about three seconds, can you do something about that, or is my grandson gonna be born on the damn sidewalk?"

Without hesitating, the doctor snapped a finger and an orderly brought a wheelchair over to Olivia, who was crying profusely from a mix of pain, confusion over those text messages, and hearing Frank call Elliot his son, and her his daughter-in-law, and her unborn child his grandson. Elliot rolled his wife into the sterile hospital, jerking his head for Frank to follow them.

Christopher Noel Stabler was born at 11:11 PM on December, 25th. A true Christmas miracle. Elliot was lying in the bed with Olivia, both holding their son, when the door to the room swung open and a thousand people, or so it seemed, poured in. They smiled brightly as everyone gathered around to meet their baby. Olivia held up the baby boy, and made his tiny little hand wave to the room. "Say hi to everybody, Chris. That's Grandpa Frank, and Grandma Maggie. That's your Grandpa Don, holding the big teddy bear. That's Uncle Fin and Aunt Casey with your cousin Brody, and Uncle Munch and Aunt Alex. And then right here we have your big sisters Maureen and Kathleen, Lizzie, and your big brothers Dickie and Eli whose only a year and a half older than you."

She looked down and saw that his tiny eyes were closed. "You slept through that, you little stinker," she said leaning down and nuzzling him. "They all love you anyway."

Elliot kissed his little forehead and said, "We can't forget Aunt Kathy and Grandma Serena, who made sure you got here safe and sound, little man." He then turned his head, only slightly, and kissed his wife. "Liv, baby, you do realize, you can never hate Christmas again, right?"

The room erupted in laughter, and the sleeping newborn was very gently passed around to each member of his family, while two very relieved, very content, very observant, and surprisingly technical, guardian angels watched down from Heaven. The two people, who, in life, were never as good or as decent or as kind as they should have been to those they loved, we're making up for it as they looked over them, guarding and guiding, and sending a few needed text messages from above.

**A/N: So, I'm a sap. Sue me. Whadja think?**


	12. Yes, Olivia There's a Santa One Shot

**A/N: Yes, Olivia, there is a Santa Claus. Just read it.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline, narrative and dialogue belong to TStabler©**

"You didn't have to tell Cragen you'd do this, El. You should be with your..." she was going to say "family", but she remembered that after the divorce, Kathy got Christmas with the kids. One of the only holidays she got, and every third weekend. That's what you get for cheating on your husband after accusing him for doing so for years, and Olivia did not feel sorry for her. She felt sorry for Elliot. And herself. Because they were on a lonely road in East Bumblefuck tracking down leads on a rape/homicide.

"Liv, I would rather be with you, at work, on Christmas Eve than home alone." He looked at her and smiled. "In fact, I'd rather be with you _anywhere_ than be alone." He reached over the center console and took her hand. Sparks flew from that single, little touch, and the shock and distraction was enough to make Elliot and Olivia forget they were driving. Something hit them, or they hit something, hard.

Elliot got out of the car and looked around. The road was empty. Olivia got out and looked at the car, the hood was smashed. They definitely hit something. "Christ, Elliot, what the hell were you doing trying to hold my fucking hand when you should have been driving?

"Me? I ...Liv, there was nothing on this goddamn road! I looked away for two fucking seconds to have, what I thought was a nice moment!"

"Look at the car! Cragen is gonna flip!"

"I'm not worried about Cragen, right now. I don't know where the fuck we are and there is _nothing_ on this road and...oh, fuck, I didn't even ask...are you okay?"

She nodded. "Fine, just a little...my neck and back kinda hurt, but we've been driving for a while so..."

"Dammit," he cried. "You've got whiplash. Shit."

Olivia walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder. "No, no. It's probably just from sitting down for so long. Look, why don't we just start walking? Someone has to live out here somewhere. I'll call Cragen and see if he can send someone out here to get us." Elliot nodded, biting his lip, still pissed.

They began to walk, leaving the smoking, broken heap of metal on the road behind them. It was freezing, so they were both silently praying that they'd hit a store or a house soon. "Hey, Cap? It's Olivia. We got into an accident and...no, no we're both fine. The car's dead, though. We need assis...what?! How? We aren't that far out and it isn't even..." She didn't get the words out of her mouth when the flakes started to fall. "Okay, so it _is_ snowing here, but nothing like what...okay, yeah, we'll try. Um, Route Thirty I think, just call me when you can. Thanks." She hung up the phone. "Fuck!"

"Okay, _that_ sounded promising," Elliot said sarcastically.

Olivia scoffed. "All roads out of Manhattan are closed. State of emergency owing to the five fucking _feet_ of snow they got over there! Looks like it's starting here, too. Jesus _Christ_, I _hate_ Christmas!"

Elliot laughed as he rubbed his hands together. "You know that it's _his_ birthday, right? So, you just told him you hate his birthday. That's not very nice, Liv. Santa's gonna put you on the naughty list, you old Scrooge."

"Bah, humbug, El!" She tried to bury herself in her coat as they walked further down the empty, snow covered road.

Ten minutes later, a good foot of snow was on the ground and Elliot had wrapped his arms around Olivia, for warmth, or at least, that was his _excuse_. Olivia loved being in his strong, comforting embrace. It was something she dreamed about, though, her dreams didn't do it justice. She was in Heaven. "Hey, what is that? Up ahead?"

Elliot squinted his eyes and blinked. "It looks like a...manger? I didn't think they even existed anymore!' They looked at each other, smiled, then ran, crunching through the snow into the open barn. They stepped into it and shook the snow off of their frozen bodies. "Oh, my God, Elliot! They're beautiful!"

"Don't touch them, Liv! They could have some kind of disease and if they bite you..."

"Shhh!" She stepped closer to the reindeer closest to her and reached out a hand. She stroked it's back and let out a very girly giggle. Elliot was amazed by everything Olivia did, everyday, but this was something magical to witness. She was actually petting a reindeer, while she was wearing a fluffy white jack covered in snow with rosy red cheeks. He took out his cell phone and snapped a picture. _This_ was his Christmas card for next year. "Oh, El!" Olivia gasped and ran over to a larger deer, a buck, who was missing an antler. "This little guy's hurt!"

"He's not that little, Liv," he said, stepping closer hesitantly. "Elliot! You don't think that we hit him? Do you think he's seriously injured?"

"Oh, he'll be fine," a low, cheerful voice said from behind them. "He's always been a bit of a klutz. He likes to run into things, so _he _probably hit _you_." The man walked over and patted the animal on his head, speaking to it. "That makes this the fourth antler you've lost, doesn't it you little _vixen_?" The deer, as if he understood, bowed its head in shame and, my goodness, it blushed. "Tell the nice lady you're sorry," the man commanded. The deer poked Olivia with its little nose and then licked her cheek. She laughed and smiled like Elliot had never seen before.

"That is amazing. Are they all yours?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, all _nine_ of them." He stroked the one-antlered deer on the head again as Olivia widened her eyes. "Oh! I'm sorry for coming in here. We were lost, and cold and as you can see it's snowing like hell out..."

"My dear, it's absolutely fine. We're not staying long, anyway. Just taking a break. We've got a long night, don't we boys?" The deer made noises and nodded. These were amazing creatures. "Now, while we've got time, let's get you two warmed up and see what we can do about getting you home, huh? Come on." The man, who Olivia noted was quite round about the middle, led them to the side of the barn and, to their shock, into a cabin. He told them to have a seat and he fixed them two large cups of peppermint-hot-chocolate.

"Excuse me, sir," Elliot began.

"Call me Nick, son."

"Okay, uh, Nick. May I use your bathroom? We've been walking for ages and certain parts of my body have finally defrosted," he said with a shy smirk.

"Of course, Elliot, right down the hall there." He pointed and off Elliot ran to the potty. He wondered, briefly, how Nick knew his name, but figured he must have overheard them talking in the barn.

"So, Olivia, tell me, dear, why is it that you dislike Christmas?"

Olivia's head shot up and she almost spat her mouthful of cocoa into the nice man's fluffy white beard.

"What? How did know my...and that I..."

He chuckled happily and interrupted her. "Oh, child, there will be time for questions later, but I would like to have some answers, now."

"Oh, well, uh...I've never had a really good one. No one's ever really been there, never had a real family, never had a real tree, Christmas was always spent watching my mother drink herself into a stupor and embarrassing herself and beating the crap out of me. She never even bought me a single Christmas present. When she passed out, I used to climb up on the roof and wish really, really hard for Santa to make it snow."

"Did it?" The fat, bearded man asked.

"Every year," Olivia recalled with a furrowed brow.

"I've always wondered, Olivia, why you wished for snow, and then stayed out on the roof in the storm."

Olivia smiled bitterly. "The cold. The ice. It makes you numb."

"So, you just wanted to be numb for Christmas, all those many years?"

"Yes," she said as a tear rolled down her cheek.

The man, knowing Elliot had long since vacated the bathroom and had been listening from the hallway, leaned into Olivia. "After your mother died, you just stopped talking to Santa. You stopped asking him to make it snow. You stopped asking for things for Christmas."

"I never really believed in Santa. I thought it was all a coincidence. When she died, I didn't need to escape to the roof anymore. So, I just ignored Christmas all together."

"Well, Olivia. If you could, what would you ask Santa for this year? As if he doesn't already know?" the man asked with a smile.

She laughed and wiped her eyes. "You're seriously asking me to tell you this? God, you're going to think this is pathetic."

"I don't, Olivia. In fact, I think it's the perfect gift for you. It's something you've wanted for years, isn't it? Something that you've never had the courage to really ask for?"

Olivia balked, staring at him. "I don't know how you know all this but if you _do _know then you know I couldn't ask for it, because it was wrong, he was married, with a family. I could never..."

Nick chuckled again, his belly shaking as he laughed. "I also know that he wanted you, too, Olivia, for a very long time. In fact, you are definitely on his Christmas list this year. He asked for you on August first, actually. Rather early for him."

"Oh, well that's the day his divorce was final..." she stopped, really looking at him. "Who _are _you?"

"I am....running late. Goodness, look at the time. You are more than welcome to stay here. You'll find that the snow, unfortunately, won't clear up in the city or out here until the day after Christmas. See, I always give the kids on the 'Nice' list what they ask for. Goodbye, you two." Nick left Olivia and Elliot in the living room of the cabin and ran out the door.

"Liv," Elliot said from the doorway leading into the hall. "Why didn't you tell me? About the Christmas thing? You and the snow?"

"Oh, shit, El. You heard all of that?" He sat down beside her, took her hand in his, and nodded. "You love Christmas, it's like your favorite day in the history of the universe and I couldn't ruin it for you by telling you that I used to try to freeze to death every year."

He snuggled close to her and kissed her forehead. "That crazy man was right, Liv. I asked for you for Christmas. I don't know how he knew but, he was right." He looked into her eyes and said, "The minute I got the document in the mail declaring me free and single, I looked up and said, out loud actually, Dickie _heard_ me, 'All I want for Christmas is for Olivia Benson to tell me she loves me."

"Why Christmas?" Olivia asked, looking back into his baby-blues.

He smiled, brushed the hair out of her eyes and said, "You just said it, Liv. It's my favorite day in the history of the universe. Hearing you tell me you love me on Christmas, man, that would be epic for me.

She cupped his face with her, now warm, hands and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I love you, Elliot Stabler."

His eyes, welling up with tears, lit up brightly as he smiled, and said, "I love you, Olivia Benson."

From the window, which was open on a crack, they heard the sound of clattering hooves, ringing sleigh bells, and a loud, booming, jolly voice cry out, "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas."

"Elliot, you don't think..." She turned and tried to look out the window, but it was fogged up and snow-frosted.

"Liv, the man _was_ kinda fat, _excessively_ happy _and_ friendly, he had a _white_ beard and..."

"Nine pet _reindeer_! His name was _Nick_! _St._ Nick? He knew our _names_ without us telling him, he _knew _what we wanted for _Christmas_ and he..."

"Made _Vixen_ run into our car so we'd get _stuck_ here. He gave us what we wanted, Liv. We're alone, in a cozy cabin, by the fireplace, with the most amazing hot chocolate I've ever had, and _you_ _love_ me." He pulled her onto him, so they were lying back on the couch, kissing, listening to the crackle of the fire.

Olivia pulled away, tugging lightly on his bottom lip. "Yeah. That's _exactly_ what I wanted for Christmas. And I'm _very_ glad I got it," she said, kissing him, "Because Santa's not going to give me _anything_ next year."

He kissed her, deeply. He _loved_ kissing her. "Why do you say that?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Because now that I've got _you_, Stabler, I've got a feeling I'm going to be very, very, _naughty_."

**A/N: Hey, Santa? You listening, buddy? I would like Chris Meloni for Christmas. No? Okay, good reviews will just have to do.**


	13. Fighty the Elf Part One

**A/N: This two-shot is a bit abnormal for me, as Kathy's an actual character *gasp* but fret not, keeping with the sprit of Christmas Miracles and all, she doesn't last long.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline, narrative and dialogue belong to TStabler©**

The hall was beautifully decorated, with a very large tree in the far corner. It was lit up and the gold and silver decorations, the colors of the shields they all wore at their hip, sparkled and shimmered. "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" was playing as Munch held Alex tightly in his lanky arms and swayed her back and forth. Fin and Casey, and her big, baby belly, were dancing, too, and laughing as Fin tried to get his arms all the way around Casey. Baby Fin was making it very hard. Cragen and the court reporter he'd been seeing were _sort of_ dancing, but it was more like standing and nodding and snapping. Elliot and Kathy were on the dance floor, about a mile apart, glaring at each other, but still there, together.

Olivia looked at the room and, aside from Elliot's kids, she was pretty much the only single one in the room. But, she didn't want to be. Nope. Not one bit. She wanted to go dance with the pissed off Irish ex-Marine who was now yelling at his wife. No, actually, she didn't even want to be at this stupid thing. She hated Christmas. It was like God's way of saying "Hey world! Let's all be happy and joyous on the day Olivia Benson was conceived! The day her mother was traumatized, and subsequently became a raging alcoholic who hated her child with a fiery passion! Wahoo! Party!" Every year on Christmas, the day her mother was raped, Olivia would have to hear the harrowing tale before her mother drank herself into oblivion and beat her with the empty bottle.

Trying not to remember it all, she spun around to the bar and gulped the drink in front of her down an a single sip. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for the ghosts of Christmases passed to stay buried, where they belonged. She looked up and saw two glass doors and her heart leaped. Escape! She ran through them and reveled in the frigid air, because it was better than suffocating inside. Her moment of relaxation was shattered with the doors on the other side slammed open, a thin, thin, wooden, hinged wall separating herself and whoever just barreled through them.

"All right, Kathy. What the hell is your problem? You can't even be civil for the sake of our kids? Christ, we just told them we're getting divorced on Thanksgiving. you wanna fuck up their Christmas now, too?" Olivia's eyes widened and she gasped. Elliot was yelling like she had never heard him yell before. But, that's because she'd never heard him yell at _Kathy._

"My problem is that, though we are _getting _divorced, Elliot, we are not divorced, _yet_. You can't keep staring at _her_ when you're supposed to be here with _me_ and _our_ _children_." Kathy was yelling right back at him.

Elliot scoffed. Olivia could picture what he must look like. His hand on his hip and his tongue just grazing his bottom lip. She knew what he looked like when he was pissed. "What the fuck are you talking about, Kathy? Who do you think I'm staring at, huh?"

It was Kathy's turn to scoff. They were good at this. It was like a dysfunctional tennis match. "Come off it, Elliot. I _am not_ blind. The whole time we were eating, you two were talking and laughing and sharing these little inside jokes, like the rest of the fucking table didn't even _exist_. And you thanked _her_ before your _family_ when you got your award."

"Christ, this? Again? She is my partner! Of _course _I'm going to thank her _first_ when we get award for having an effective _partnership_!" Elliot laughed. An angry, frustrated, condescending laugh.

Kathy narrowed her eyes. "You think this is funny? You're making a fool out of me _and_ one out of yourself. Do you realize that? Elliot, why am I even here if you wanted to be with that...that...."

His voice become low, threatening and, Olivia thought, evil. "Don't you _dare_ say anything, not a _single_ derogatory word, about her. You have been jealous of her for ten years. Ten goddamn years, Kathy, and you know what? I signed the fucking papers, so I've got no problem telling you that you had _every right_ to be.

"What the hell are you saying Elliot? You and....you two..."

Elliot chuckled. It was not a friendly chuckle. "No. Never. Not once. But, goddamn it, Kathy, I wanted to. You accused me, every night, of doing things with her that I _wish_ I was amoral and _sinful_ enough to do, because you're _right_, okay? I _was_ staring at her. _All_ night, baby. I would rather talk to _her_ than _anyone else_ in that room. I thanked _her _before anyone else because _she _is the _most_ important person _in_ my _life_, next to _my_ children. So, Merry _Fucking_ Christmas, Kathy, you got what you wanted. You got me to admit that I'm _in love_ with_ Olivia_."

"Go to hell, Elliot," Kathy said before she ran back into the ballroom, slamming the door behind her so hard that the wooden divider on the patio keeled over. Elliot turned to see what made the noise and he came face-to-face a very scared, shocked and slightly sick-looking Olivia. Her arms were crossed and her teeth were chattering, it was from a mix of cold, nerves and trying not to faint.

She looked at Elliot, who seemed just as scared and shocked as she did, and said, "See, this is why I hate Christmas."

**A/N: Uh, oh! Santa can't save you now, Liv! Reviews can!!**


	14. Fighty the Elf Part Two

**A/N: The conclusion of Fighty The Elf. SMUT, or something like it, ensues.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline, narrative and dialogue belong to TStabler©**

Mouth gaping, Elliot blinked. "No, Liv. you hate Christmas because your mother was..."

She held up a hand to stop him. "Yeah, I know. Thank you! Lived it, remember?"

"How much did you hear?" He took a step forward, the angry look on his face never fading.

Olivia shrugged. "Oh, uh, just, ya know the part when you said, about the, uh, all of it."

"All of it!?" Elliot threw a hand up and spun around, running his other hand through his hair. He yelled at Olivia almost as loud as he was yelling at Kathy. "What the hell, Liv? You hear two people fighting and you think, 'Gee, this sounds like it'll be interesting, I'll just sick around and listen'? You should have just gone back inside."

Olivia snapped and yelled back. "I tried, Elliot. The goddamn door over _here _locked on me when I came outside! I wasn't about to interrupt World War Fucking Three so I could use_ that_ one!" She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly is this my fault? Why are you screaming at me? What the fuck, El? Do you turn into 'Fighty The Elf' on Christmas? Just have to yell at everybody?"

Elliot looked at her. Really looked at her. Her cheeks were rosy, her tight, muscular body was poured into a slinky black sparkly dress that showed off the legs of a goddess and he had never wanted her more than he did right now because she was _so _fucking _sexy _when she was _mad._ The animal in him took over, like Dr. Jekyll losing to Mr. Hyde, and he jumped over the fallen divider and crashed his lips into hers.

If it was because she was angry, cold or just sexually frustrated beyond belief it wasn't certain, but Olivia gripped the sides of Elliot's head and deepened the kiss, running her leg up his, and letting a soft moan escape into his mouth. Elliot grabbed the leg that was creeping up the side of his body and ran his hand under her dress and up her thigh until he was cupping her firm, perfect ass. He took two steps, pushing her into the back, shadowed wall and pulled his lips off of hers, sliding them down her neck. Finding her pulse, he nibbled, bit, and sucked, as the hand on her butt played with the elastic of her lace panties.

"Oh, shit, El." Olivia said breathlessly, as he was still attached to her jugular. "Mmm-hmm," was all he could manage. He hooked a finger through the sides and, still feeling the aftershocks of his little temper tantrum, twisted the lace in his hand and tugged, hearing a rip and Olivia's cry. "Fucking hell, Elliot."

He removed his mouth from her neck, with a pop, and, smirking at the pretty, purple, heart-shaped mark he made, he said, "I'll buy you new ones. Or, just stop wearing them. Make our lives easier." Before she could ask him what that was supposed to mean, his lips were on hers again, his tongue invading her mouth, battling with her own for control, which was a moot point because control was lost by both people _long_ ago.

His hand, after tossing the ripped, useless, panties over the side of the patio deck, into the Hudson River, returned to its home under Olivia's dress, creeping slowly to her waiting core. Elliot, Olivia could feel him do so, smirked against her lips as a single fingertip ever-so-lightly ran down the very middle of her slit. She just about melted. The delicious noise that came from the woman in his arms just egged Elliot on, he dipped his digit in a little more, a little deeper, running it upward this time. He groaned at how wet she was, and he loved the fact that _he_ made her that way.

Throwing caution to the wind, he pushed his finger into her, enjoying the half-moan, half-squeal she made as he did so, and he almost came in his pants when she dug her nails into his back and bit his bottom lip. Elliot, when it came to Olivia, was always a bit of a masochist, getting pleasure out of the pain she caused him. He tore his lips away from her as he pulled his finger out and shoved two into her in its place, earning a deep growl from Olivia. "That was the sexiest noise I have ever heard, Liv," he said as he pumped his fingers faster, getting her ready. "You heard me, right? You heard me say I'm in love with you?"

She nodded. It was all she _could_ do as she bit her bottom lip and rolled her eyes into the back of her head. She ran her hands over his back and around to the front of his waist, she fiddled with his belt and the button on the front of his suit pants, and when she was sure Elliot took the hint and started shimmying out of them, she picked her other leg up off the floor and it joined its mate around Elliot's waist. He pulled his hand away from her throbbing, aching, center and wrapped it around his long, thick, hard member, coating it with her juices before positioning it at her entrance.

She had to tell him. It was now or never. "I'm in love with you, too. El." That was it. That was the button she needed to push to send Elliot into hyper-drive. He plunged into her, at the same time claiming her mouth once again. A good thing, too, because if he hadn't, her intense scream would have alerted everyone they work with, and Elliot's four children, and ex-wife, to what they were doing. Outside. In the snow. On Christmas Eve.

It wasn't candlelight and roses. It wasn't champagne and a hot tub. Hell, it wasn't even in a horizontal position on comfortable furniture indoors. But, it was so perfectly "them". Passionate. Driven. Intense. Emotional. Heated. Spontaneous. They moved, like they did in every aspect of their lives, in complete sync. Olivia was meeting Elliot, thrust for powerful thrust, thankful that he was strong enough to hold her up and screw her silly at the same time. Elliot was in Heaven, the sounds she was making, the feeling of her clenching and vibrating around him, the taste and fervor of her kiss, it was all too much too handle. He reached a hand between them and swiped his thumb over her clit. Once. Twice. Three times. Her inner walls clamped down around him, her legs tightened around his waist, she pulled her lips away from his and cried, softly but wantonly, "Oh, my fucking God, El," and he knew she was almost there.

He felt a fire burning low in his belly and he knew, too, that he wasn't going to last much longer either. "I love you, baby. I love you." He said it twice. Maybe, because he knew she didn't hear it much in her life. And then he fingered that little nub of nerves vigorously. Olivia pressed her lips together and her eyes shot open, her nails dug deeper into his back and she made the teeniest little squeaky noises. Elliot smirked, assaulted her mouth once again, and thrust four more times before the world went completely dark for both of them.

When their vision returned, with a little bit of their common sense, Olivia was still wrapped tightly around Elliot, his head resting on her chest, her head resting on his head, they both looked drugged, drunk, stupid. Olivia was running a hand through Elliot's hair, and they were both grinning like wild baboons. Suddenly, Elliot burst into a fanatic fit of laughter, shaking Olivia off of him to her feet. As she straightened out her dress and tried to make her hair look less like a morning-after-mess, she cocked an eyebrow at her lover.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

Tucking his shirt back into his pants, and fixing his tie, he replied, still laughing, "Fighty the Elf. That was good, Liv." They walked back over to the glass doors and as he pulled one open he looked down at her. "Didn't you say this was locked?"

She smirked and winked at him. "Merry Christmas, El."

**A/N: I honestly don't know where that came from. Do you? **


	15. Something More One Shot

**A/N: A Holiday songishfic? Woah! This will be posted in BOTH series' of mine. Sorry if you read it twice. Set the Christmas after Serena died. I've also changed something else, you'll see.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and its Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Song is "Christmas Must Be Something More" by Taylor Swift. Storyline, narrative and dialogue belong to TStabler©**

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Stabler house, the only creatures that were stirring were Elliot, wrapping some large, last minute gifts for his kids, and Olivia, sitting idly by with a cup of cocoa in her hands and a tape dispenser, begrudgingly helping her recently divorced partner of five years participate in what she considered to be an archaic and patronizing ritual.

"Tape," he spat, holding out his hand. Olivia ripped a length of the sticky plastic off and handed it to him and watched in awe as he pressed it firmly to the package, making it virtually invisible. He couldn't sign his DD5's in straight lines but he could wrap a Christmas present fucking perfectly. He beamed with pride as he held up the intricately wrapped gift at Olivia, who just nodded with the barest hint of a smirk.

"Oh, come on, Liv! This is fucking Gift-Wrap-Gold right here. If it were an Olympic event I'd kick major ass!" Her expression didn't change, she just shrugged her shoulders. He scooted closer and rested his chin on her knee. "Okay, what gives, Ms. Scrooge?"

"I know you're trying, El, but forcing me to join in all your little reindeer games isn't really doing much. It's actually reminding me why I think Christmas kinda bites." She took another sip of her cocoa and absentmindedly ran a hand trough Elliot's hair.

"Care to elaborate?" he said, snuggling further into her lap.

"Okay, take that box. You just spent fifteen minutes covering it with pretty paper and a golden bow that was, what, ten bucks? _What if ribbons and bows didn't mean a thing_?" She peered down at him and saw that his brow had furrowed. She put her cocoa down on the end table and continued her line of questioning. "And those stupid songs? The Twelve days of Christmas? I don't want my true love giving me all those goddamn birds and leaping lords and milking maids, and _would the song still survive without five golden rings?_ And the other crap traditions, too, I mean if you're stuck under a stupid plant with someone, take a good look at them. _Would you still wanna kiss without mistletoe?"_

Elliot chuckled and nuzzled her leg, not grasping how serious she was about hating the holiday. Then, when he saw the distant expression in her eyes, he knew. She asked him,_ "What would happen if God never let it snow_ for you, and there was no white Christmas, no winter wonderland or Frosty the goddamn snowman? _What would happen_, El, _if Christmas carols told a lie_, and there was no peace on your Earth, no joy in your world or angels watching over you? _Tell me, what would you find?_ Because, I can't find shit."

"Liv?" he asked, popping his head up. He rose from his spot on the floor and sat beside her on the sofa, wrapped a loving arm around her and let her continue. "Elliot, _what if angels didn't pay attention to all the things we wished they would always do?_" A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away. "Liv, what …where is all this coming from?" She just shook her head and sniffled.

"_What if happiness just came in a cardboard box_," she said pointing at the perfect presents under the beautiful tree. Elliot brushed the hair off of her face and replied, _"Well, then I think there's something we all forgot."_ She snickered, but the tears didn't stop. _"El, what would happen if presents all went away?_ I mean, _we get so caught up in all of it, in business and relationships,_ well most people have relationships, and _we lead these_ _hundred-mile-an-hour lives._"

"But, Liv," Elliot interrupted, "_It's that time of year, when everybody's here, so that should be the last thing on your mind!"_

"Oh, El. You don't understand. I know that it's supposed to be _this day that holds something special, something holy, not superficial_." She picked up her cocoa and scoffed, making a mock toast through her tears. _"So, here's to Jesus Christ, who saved our lives!_"

"Liv, you know that's not…"

"_I know, it's something we all try to ignore, put a wreath up on the door, but, here's something I know for sure._ This…my point is…I've never had a reason, a real reason, as to why this holiday is so goddamn special, because to me it's always been about taking care of my drunk mother while no one took care of me, and Christmases just fucking sucked. So, now that I don't have to worry about her anymore, I think _Christmas must be something more."_

Elliot pulled Olivia into his arms and let her cry into his chest. When she finished sobbing, minutes later, he lifted her chin with a finger and peered into her eyes. "Hey, Liv, Christmas is whatever you want it to be, in your heart, what you feel means the most to you. What brings you joy? Who do you love the most, Liv? Those are the people and things that make Christmas bright, not presents, no matter how awesomely wrapped they are, or silly songs."

Olivia bowed her head and pulled away from him, laughing, discouraged. "What, what'd I say? I thought that was pretty good? I thought I did good, right there," Elliot said trying to pull her back toward him playfully.

"El, you did. What you said was beautiful. It just doesn't do much to help me."

"Well, why not, Liv?" he asked, taking her hand.

Olivia looked up at him and sighed. "Because, El, if I take your advice, and let the things and people that I love the most, which coincidentally are the same, become the meaning of Christmas…El, how the hell are _you_ Christmas?"

Elliot's eyes widened and a slow smile spread across his face. "Easy, Liv," he said, suddenly pulling her into a heart-stopping kiss. "The same way you are."

**A/N: Awww. I want an Elliot for Christmas. Don't you? What'd you think?**


	16. Not So Wonderful Is It Part One

**A/N: Just something I thought I'd attempt, as it's your oh-so-typical holiday tale. I don't think it's ever been done quite like this before….**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and Characters belong to Dick Wolf. Not-so-original plot, dialogue and narrative belong to TStabler© **

Elliot, Fin, and Munch, three of New York's finest detectives, were leaving O'Harrah's Pub after a particularly rough case. Over drinks, they'd been discussing the case, the victims and how hard Olivia had taken it. It hit close to home, as the young woman who had just been raped was a product of a rape herself, and the daughter of an abusive alcoholic, just like Olivia. On the way home, though, the conversation was lighter, and on the subject of Christmas Eve wishes.

"Seriously," Munch said, "If I could get a wish granted, like that guy in 'It's A Wonderful Life', I'd want to know everything that the government is…no, you know what? I'd want to _be_ the fucking government!"

Fin and Elliot snickered as Fin mused, "Well, the only thing I'm wishin' for on Christmas is knowing' if Casey's havin' a boy or a girl, because no one like's callin' it 'Baby Tutuola', and I'm not paintin' the damn nursery yellow, green or orange. It's pink, or it's blue, or it ain't getting' painted. The end. Period."

Elliot laughed at the familiar feeling of pre-daddy jitters, then all eyes were on him. "Okay, man," Fin said as he rubbed his gloved hands together for extra warmth. "Your turn. If you could wish for anything in the world, what would it be?"

He paused, looked at his two friends, then looked up at the sky. "I'd wish for Liv to have had a normal, safe, happy childhood. With two parents who loved and cared about her, so she didn't have to feel like no one loved her. So, she wouldn't blame herself for every drink her mother had ever taken. So, she wouldn't even have hated her mother, or her father, or Christmas. So, she would be…whole."

Munch scoffed. "Thanks for making my wish look all shitty now, man."

They went off in their separate directions and as Elliot was trying to find his keys in his pocket, he tripped over a homeless man on the sidewalk. "Oh, wow. I am so sorry. Are you okay? I didn't see you there."

"I'm fine, Elliot."

"Okay, good, because I just…how do you know my name?" Elliot asked dropping his keys to the floor.

The bum got up and dusted himself off, and laughed. "That was a very noble wish you made, son. I'm not sure you grasp how _selfless_ it was though."

Elliot scratched his head, bent down to pick up his keys and stared blankly at the man as he stood up. "How did you hear…we were all the way down the…what the hell?" Having been a homeless panhandler only moments ago, the man was now dressed in a fine, white suit.

The man laughed again. "Why don't we get you home, Elliot, and I'll explain." Elliot nodded dumbly and started to climb the steps to his apartment. "No, no. Elliot, you don't live there…you live over there," the man in white said pointing to a much larger apartment further down the street.

"What are you talking about? I haven't had that much to drink I think I know where I…AHH!" Without actually moving, they were now standing inside the foyer of the apartment the guy in the suit had pointed to, and Elliot's four children were decorating the tree. "What are they doing here? They spend Christmas with their mother!"

"Not anymore, Elliot. See, without Olivia there, Kathy had no reason to mistrust you, no reason to believe you were cheating so she never minded when you stayed out all night. You just spent too much time away from home because you were _actually_ working, so _she _cheated on _you_ and _gave_ _you_ the kids." White-suited man then winked at Elliot, who laughed nervously.

"Okay, maybe I had more to drink than I thought. And what do you mean, 'without Olivia there'?" he asked, suddenly worried. Scared. "And who the hell _are _you?"

"You can call me Archie, and since you're not going to be the most patient client I've ever had…" Archie snapped his fingers. They were suddenly standing outside the squadroom of the Special Victims Unit. "Go on in, see what your wish did to your friends, Elliot."

Elliot raised his eyebrow, and was stunned as he walked into the room. Brian Cassidy was sitting at the desk across from Munch. Munch was back to wearing those stiff black suits and walking like Frankenstein, Elliot had forgotten the Olivia had been the one that loosened him up. There's was no sign of Fin anywhere, and then he remembered that Fin had taken over for Jeffries, who'd left as result of a psychiactric evaluation the unit had only needed because of his relationship with Olivia. "Okay Archie, I don't get it, just because I wished for her to have a happy childhood…"

"Elliot, because of your wish, her mother wasn't raped. The child that Serena Benson was _destined_ to conceive on December 25th, the night she was raped, was, instead, conceived out of_ love_. Therefore, Olivia never had a _reason _to transfer into SVU. You don't know if she even became a cop!"

Elliot's heart broke. His whole world shattered. "Um, why is Cassidy…"

"Remember why Cassidy left, Elliot?" Archie asked.

"He screwed up a case because he fell in love with Oliv-" Again, the pain of heartache ripped through his system."No, you're lying. This is some kind of…Munch, where is Olivia?"

"Who?" The perpetually grumpy man, because Olivia wasn't there to lighten him up, said bitterly.

Elliot ran over to his desk and pounded on it. "Come on, Munch! She's your _friend_, my _best_ friend, the woman I'm in…tall, gorgeous…brown hair…eyes that light up when she smiles…great body…_Olivia_! Man, come on! You _know_ her, Munch!"

Cassidy chimed in, "Nice ass and great rack?"

"Yeah," Elliot said with a harsh glare.

"Oh, you mean the hard-ass A.D.A?" Munch asked with a furrowed brow. "Her name's not Olivia, Stabler. You've worked with her long enough to know her name."

Elliot spun to face Archie and his eyes were filled with hate and anger. "Her name isn't even 'Olivia' anymore? I'm gonna kill you!"

"Um, who the hell are you talking to, Stabler?" Cassidy asked, laughing at the hot-headaed detective who was yelling at nothing.

"This idiot in the white get-up. This is all his fault," Elliot said. He noticed, then, that Archie was laughing. "This isn't funny!"

"Okay, first, all _I _did was grant _your_ wish, so this is _your_ fault. Second, _they _can't see me," Archie said snidely.

"Okay," a familiar voice said from the doorway. "Not that I'm surprised that he's yelling, but I _am_ surprised that, this time, there is no one even _there_."

Elliot snapped his head up and his eyes widened. He ran over to her and pulled her into a big hug. "Olivia, I am so sorry about this! I'm gonna fix this!"

She didn't hug back. Instead, she went completely rigid and froze. "Woah, Stabler! Who the _hell_ is Olivia? Fix _what_? And if you don't get _off_ of me, Trevor's gonna kick your _ass_."

"What? Trevor?_ Langan?_" Elliot pulled away and looked at her with confusion and horror written all over his face.

"Yeah, you know. Defense attorney, _you_ hate him, _I_ love him. Married him, actually." She said crossing her arms and smirking.

"No, no, no, Liv. You _hate_ Langan! We spend _hours_ making fun of that _insipid_ little amoeba," Elliot spat. Olivia's eyebrows arched and she took a very threatening step toward him.

She narrowed her eyes at him and pointed an acrylic tipped finger at him. "I knew you were ready to blow, Stabler, but I didn't think it would be like _this!"_

"Stop calling me 'Stabler'! You haven't called me 'Stabler' in years, unless you're mad at me! Liv! 'El', huh? Or, hell, I'll even take an 'Elliot'."

"Cragen!" she shouted. "I want this man tested for drugs!"

Dejectedly, he hung his head and ran out into the hallway as the entire bullpen stared at him in shock. He ran down the hallway right into Archie. "Well, Elliot. Did she look happy? Does she look like she has the life she always wanted?"

Elliot sniffled. He lifted a hand to his face and felt the tears falling from his cheeks. "No. That, that wasn't even _my_ Liv. She looked," he paused to sniffle again. "She looked like the people we've always criticized, the people who think they're too good for us, the people who think they're better than everyone else, the people she always hated."

"Well, Elliot, thanks to your wish, that is exactly what she is now." Archie started to walk away, hoping that the depressed man he was walking away from would do the right thing.

**A/N: Well?? How's it going?? Part two is coming atcha!! **


	17. Not So Wonderful Is It Part Two

**A/N: The conclusion of Not So Wonderful Life. Hope it makes your heart all warm and happy. **

**DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Dick Wolf, Wolf Films and Universal/NBC. Everything else belongs to me, thanks for understanding TStabler©**

"Wait," Elliot cried, grabbing Archie's arm. Smirking, the man turned around.

"Yes, Elliot?"

He sniffled. "Does she love him? Trevor, I mean?"

Archie's face fell. How could this man, who had just changed everyone's life, still only be concerned with Olivia's happiness? "Well, not in a deep and meaningful sense, no. It's a marriage of convenience. They work together, partners. They run in the same circle. They don't have anything in common, though. He doesn't make her smile. Not the way you did."

Elliot sighed in relief. She didn't love the little troll. "So, if I take back my wish…would you be able to change…I mean, can I even do that?" Elliot looked up with hopeful eyes.

Archie simpered at him. "Elliot, I'm an angel, not God. You get one wish, and you've made yours. You wanna take it back, you gotta talk to the Big Guy. It is Christmas Eve, though. He's in a pretty good mood. Your first wish was pretty darn heroic, and it came from the heart. You only wanted what you thought was best for her. I think he'll understand if you wanna take it all back, but you better have a pretty good reason," he explained. He then turned, looked Heavenward, smiled, and disappeared down the hallway.

Head bowed, Elliot started walking. He took a few deep breaths and, being Catholic, he knew right away that his words would be heard, but not necessarily listened to, since there were more urgent things on God's plate. He stepped out into the snowy New York evening and began. "Okay, Sir, I know you heard me the first time, and I thank you for that, but I just wanted to make her life a little easier. It hurts, so, so much, seeing her beat herself up over things that weren't her fault. And seeing the dark, cold place she went to every Christmas, I couldn't stand it, so I thought I would be doing her a favor. I thought I'd be making her happy, giving her a full happy life." He sniffled and wept as he walked.

"But, I realize that everything that she had to suffer through, everything she had to deal with and survive, it made her who she is…well, was. It made her the woman I fell in love with, the woman that can relate to those victims like the one we met today, the woman who knows that there are people out there who are better than Trevor Langan, and there's more to life than money and power." Elliot walked passed by his apartment, oblivious to Archie, who was standing on his stop with his brand new large, fluffy, feathery wings.

Elliot stopped in his tracks. His eyes shot open and he gasped. "Oh, my God! Yeah, you! I'm in love with her! You…I will never make another stupid wish again if you could please, please, make everything go back the way it was. I can't live without her, and I can't live with her if she's going to be…not my Liv."

Archie appeared before him, in all his angelic glory and smiled. "Elliot, you did it. Do you know where you are right now?"

Elliot looked around, and realized he was on Olivia's street. "How did I get here?"

"Oh, Elliot, after everything that's happened tonight, you ask a silly question like that? You realized something tonight, and you realized what your _real_ Christmas wish was, didn't you?"Archie asked. Elliot nodded vigorously. "Well then why are you standing here talking to an invisible angel?" Archie pointed down the street to where Olivia, in jeans and her wool coat, was getting out of a taxi. "Go and make your wish come true!"

Smiling, Elliot ran down the street, knocking people over, pushing aside women and children, ran as fast as he could. He pushed through the revolving door of Olivia's building so fast it spun around four times, with someone still inside. He bolted up the stairs because he realized that pushing the call button for the elevator eight times really fast would not make it come immediately.

He reached her floor in time to see her foot pass over the threshold and the door close behind her. He raced down the hallway and knocked, rapidly and repeatedly on the door. He heard her yelling, "Oh, what the hell, man? I just got home! Can I take off my damn jacket? Gimme a minute!"

He wasn't sure if things had changed, because lawyers often _were_ very irritable. He didn't let up on the knocking, though, and just pounded harder.

"Okay, okay! What is so import…" As soon as the door opened he threw his arms around her, cutting off anything she was about to say.

"Woah, hey!" She was about to reach her hands around him, but he pulled away, scared shitless.

"No! Don't tell me _nothing_ changed! You're still with Trevor? And you hate me and think I'm on crack or something…and…oh, my God, Liv!"

"Woah, El, hold on a minute! Trevor? _Langan_? Hair-plug-having-soy-bean-eating-couldn't-get-a-date-if-he-_paid_-for-one Trevor Langan? Why the _hell_ would I be with _him_? And I _do_ not _hate _you, El, I love…um, quite the opposite of hate, you." Her eyes were screwed up in confusion and worry.

Elliot laughed and pushed through the door way, closing the door behind him. "You just called me 'El', Liv!" he shouted with glee, pulling her back into his arms.

"What _else_ would I call you? Are you feeling okay?" She put a hand to his forehead and he pulled it off, and down, and held it. "You wanna tell me why I had to go to the grocery store for the first time in, like, a _year_ because I got a phone call from some guy telling me you wanted me to make you a _turkey_ while you're here?"

His eyes lit up. "I feel fine _now_, Liv. _Better_ than fine. Amazing. Perfect." He looked into her eyes, and took both of her hands in his. "I don't want a turkey, Liv. I don't know who called…wait, yes I do. But the point is, I don't want a turkey. Or a chicken, or a peacock, or anything else, _ever_, as long as I've got _you_." And with that he cupped her face and kissed her, the most wonderful kiss, and was pleasantly surprised when, instead of pushing him away, like he was expecting, she moaned into his mouth and snaked her arms around his neck.

The kiss deepened, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, in shock, but he took the opportunity to poke his tongue into her mouth and massage her tongue with his, effectively earning another a low moan and the tightening of her hold on him. She reluctantly pulled back and looked at him with a drugged expression and a smile on her face. "That was fucking incredible. But,uh...why?"

"Something happened to me tonight, Liv. I can't explain it, but it was _huge_ and it made me realize how _much_ I _love_ you. I'm in love with you. Not just _you_, but your flaws, your attitude, your moods, your _past _and your compassion, everything that makes you Olivia Benson." Elliot looked at her and was stunned to see the joy that had been on her face moments ago was replaced by tears. "Why, why are you crying? What did I say?"

"El, that was the most, wow, wonderful, the nicest, most incredible thing anyone has ever said to me and all I can say in return is I love you, too." She ran a hand down his chest as she looked into his eyes. "I'm in love with your courage and your temper, your jealousy and your good heart, the way you would go to the ends of the earth for your children, El, and then beat the shit out of a perp with your bare hands when you got back, everything that makes you Elliot Stabler." Olivia looked up at him and blinked. "You said something happened to you? What was it, El?"

"Let's just say that tonight has restored my _faith_, Liv." He kissed her, and she let out a surprised little squeal and a laugh. Olivia pulled away and shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe I'm standing in my living room, kissing you, on Christmas. I usually hate Christmas," she said, stroking Elliot's cheek and smiling. "But this is...wonderful."

"I'm gonna make sure, from now on, Christmas, for you, is absolutely amazing. Every year." He leaned in to kiss her again, but stopped and peered into her eyes. "Just, before I kiss you again, do me a favor and don't make any _wishes_ tonight, okay?"

"I kind of already did, El." She gave him a sheepish grin and bit her bottom lip.

Elliot's eyes widened and he cried, "Oh, shit, what did you wish for, baby?"

"You," she said, looking up into his eyes. "Then my phone rang and some guy told me that you were coming over for Christmas and you wanted a turkey. I thought it was a joke at first, like it was Munch or Fin, being drunk assholes because I _know _you went to the bar tonight. But, then I got this strange feeling and I suddenly realized that if you showed up tomorrow and I _didn't_ have a turkey, my world would change _forever_ or something, so I went and _got_ one for you, and suddenly you show up the second I buy it and…"

Elliot kissed her again, sweetly and slowly and as he pulled away he pulled her into a hug. He looked out of the window and saw the glowing face of the friendly man who made his wish come true and said, softly, "Thank you, Archie."

"What?" Olivia asked, pulling back to look at Elliot with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "Who's Archie?"

Elliot chuckled. "Um, a friend. More like a guardian angel. He, uh, he's kind of the reason I'm here, tonight, Liv."

"Well the next time you see him, you tell him I said 'thank you', too, huh?" she said, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzlilng into his neck. "Merry Christmas, El."

Elliot sighed in contentment and nuzzled right back into her neck, making her giggle. "Merry Christmas, baby."

**A/N: Well, how was it? Click the little button down there and lemme know, k?**


	18. Wish Upon A Star One Shot

**A/N: Another one-shot piece for you all. Hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters belong to Dick Wolf. This story, plot and dialogue belong to TStabler©**

Olivia Benson, Bad-Ass cop, was walking down the street, toward her apartment, when she saw someone on her window ledge. Attempting to break in, perhaps? "Hey!" She dropped the packages she'd been holding and ran, drawing her gun. "What the hell are you doing up…Elliot?"

"Yep, it's me Liv." Her partner of eight years, Elliot Stabler, was the culprit. But, what, exactly, was he doing up there? "What the fuck, El? Are you…are you hanging Christmas lights?"

"Yep." He was a man of few words tonight.

"You know I have a gun aimed at your ass, right?" Olivia asked, her Grinch-like temper showing through. "Yep," Elliot said, his smirk hidden from her view. Olivia hated Christmas with every fiber of her being. Elliot, however, thought Christmas was the best fucking day in the world, and this year Olivia was going to like it! Whether she liked it or not.

"Elliot Stabler, if you do not remove those blinking little bastards from my bedroom window, I _will_ pull this trigger." She sounded serious.

"You would never do that. You love my ass, Liv. You'd never mar it with a bullet wound." Damn himm for being right. She really did love his ass.

Olivia turned to her left and saw her nosy neighbor, Mr. Anderson, watching the whole scene. "Oh, what? Like you've never seen someone up on a fucking ladder held at gunpoint before? It's New Fucking York!"

Laughing, Elliot climbed down the ladder and removed it from the front of the building, storing it on the side. Satisfied with his work, he walked around to stand by Olivia. "See, they're not that obnoxious. They're only one color, white, and they all blink at the same time. I went easy on you."

"I hate you," she grumbled, picking up her fallen bags. Elliot laughed again. "Oh, Liv. _Wait_ till we get _inside_."

Her eyes widened. "Inside? Elliot! I gave you that key for emergencies! Like if I'm in the middle of being raped, killed or if I'm, like, trapped in the bathroom and the fucking building's on fire. I didn't give you the key so you could break, enter and decorate!" she yelled viciously as he opened the door for her.

On the way up the stairs, he laughed, again, telling her, "Liv, it's not breaking and entering if you have a key."

Struggling to open the door to her apartment, afraid of what was in store for her, she spat back, "Okay, entering then but you still…holy shit, El, Christmas fucking threw up in here!"

She had a string of garland hanging, in a scalloped pattern, on her mantle. As they closed the door, she noticed the wreath over the peephole and its large silver and gold ornaments. There were candles lit in every window, and there was a very healthy pine tree, currently being decorated by Elliot's four children. She pointed to the kids and said, "You've made them accessories, Elliot."

"To what, Liv?" he asked with a chuckle. Olivia turned and looked him in the eyes and said, coldly, "Murder." Elliot took the bag out of her hands and placed it on the coffee table, then took her coat off of her and hung it on the rack near the door. "Calm down, Liv. Hey, kids! Liv's home!"

Lizzie, Dickie, Maureen and Kathleen all smiled brightly and waved cheerfully, but they continued they're decorating, choosing branches carefully for each ornament and then looking at Liv when it came time for the star. "Okay, Olivia," Lizzie yelled, running over and grabbing her hand. "_You_ have to do this."

"No, no way. Keep me away from that…that…_monstrosity_. I think I need to move _out_ of here. Tonight!" she cried as the twelve year old tugged, dragging her across the hardwood floor.

"Come on, Liv. It's _your_ tree, _you_ have to make the wish," Dickie said, waving the star in her face.

"Wish? What? I can't just put the thing on the top, there?" Olivia said, taking the pretty, glittery, silver, light-up celestial looking thing from Lizzie's twin.

"No, Liv. This is a Stabler tradition. You've got to make a wish when you put the star on," Elliot said, wrapping a hand around her waist and hoisting her up to reach the highest bow.

Her wish had already come true, just then, but she wasn't about to say that. "Woah, okay, strong man! But, I'm not a Stabler."

Elliot laughed, keeping her tight in his arms. "Sure you are, Liv. Close your eyes, make a wish, and put the star right there, on the top."

"Okay, okay. Um…okay, I got it." She closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. She wished, with all of her heart that this unwelcome assault on her apartment, this gargantuan tree that had been unlawfully stuck in her living room, this incredible attempt by her partner, her friend, the man she secretly loved with her entire being, and his amazing children, to get her to open up to some stupid holiday was really something _more _than that. She wished it was his way of finally saying he was ready to move on, leave his broken marriage behind and take that next step that they'd been dancing around for the last year. Hell, he'd even just said she was _already_ a part of the _family_. She opened her eyes and, with a look of pure concentration and determination, that included a poked out tongue and furrowed brow, she firmly planted the star on the top branch of the tree.

Slowly dropping her to her feet, but never loosening his grip on her waist, Elliot cried, "All right, Maureen, light her up."

Biting her bottom lip in excitement, Elliot's oldest daughter plugged in the tree. The Stabler kids all had looks of pure glee on their faces, as did their father, and they all turned, expectantly, to Olivia, who was standing, dumbstruck, in Elliot's embrace. Staring at the tree, a tear rolled down her cheek, and the small simper on her face could be construed as either happy or painful.

"Way to go Dad, you broke Olivia," Kathleen quipped.

Olivia sniffled. "No, it…it's beautiful. I've, uh, never had a Christmas tree before, and the fact that you guys did this, well, it…" She wrapped her arms around her waist, taking hold of Elliot's stronger, thicker upper limbs, and she gripped. "Thank you."

"Does that mean you don't hate Christmas anymore?" Lizzie asked, with hope in her sweet voice. Her hands were clasped together tightly, held under her chin, as if she'd been praying.

"Well, uh, no. It just means I don't hate the tree, honey. I _love_ this tree." Olivia tried to take a step away from Elliot, but his firm grasp on her wouldn't let up.

He whispered in her ear, "What'd you wish for, Liv?" God, his hot breath in her ear sent shivers down her spine and drummed up feelings and stirrings that she shouldn't be feeing at this very moment. Not with his children in the room. Her eyes fluttered shut and she cleared her throat.

"I can't tell you. It, uh, won't come true." She didn't think it would come true, anyway, but wasn't that the superstition? Besides, like she was really going to tell him she had just wished _for him_?

"Oh, you don't even believe that wishes come true in the first place, so what's the harm? I'll tell you what I wished for. When I put the star on the tree at home," Elliot offered, trying to bargain with her. Elliot pulled her, still in his warm, loving arms, toward the archway that led to the hall. Kathleen and Maureen were hanging yet another decoration, much to Olivia's chagrin. She heaved a sigh at the sight of them and looked back at Elliot, spinning around so they were now face-to-face. "Look, Elliot. This isn't easy, okay? So just shut up and wait till I'm done. You're going to think I'm crazy, but I wished…for this whole thing…what you did in here…the explosion of Christmas…to somehow all end with you saying…"

"I love you," he said, suddenly.

Olivia, looking at him with wide eyes, just nodded. "Um, yeah. So, that was my wish, and now that you think I'm a complete idiot…"

Elliot chuckled and took two steps forward, effectively pushing them under the newly hung mistletoe. "No, Liv. I wasn't finishing your sentence, I was telling you. I love you. I have for a very long time, and I know that you hate Christmas, and I had hoped that doing all of this, and making it special for you, would change that."

"Oh," she said, sounding very genuinely surprised. She heard the clearing of tiny throats and looked out to see four little faces smugly staring at her and Elliot and pointing above their heads. Olivia followed their fingers and gasped. "Oh, no they didn't."

Elliot laughed. "Yeah, they did. Well, I did. I wasn't sure if you'd kiss me if you weren't forced to, Liv. I mean, I know we've been going back and forth, fighting around these feelings and flirtations for the last year with both of us too terrified to make a move, but I'm not afraid anymore, and clearly, my kids are just as crazy about you as I am."

Without saying anything, Olivia reached a hand up and touched his cheek, wrapping her delicate palm around the side of his head and pulling him closer. Their lips touched and it was the end of the world. Magic happened. Sparks flew. Fireworks went off. Bombs exploded. Hearts stopped. Minds melted. Toes curled. The earth shattered. And yes, Virginia, there is a fucking Santa Claus, because goddamn it this kiss was a miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street.

Olivia pulled away, slowly, her hand still curled lightly at Elliot's face and her other arm wrapped tightly around his waist. "I love you, too."

"Um, I don't think I'm old enough to have seen that, you guys," Dickie said, interrupting the sweet moment. He was smacked in the head by his three sisters. "What? He won't take me to see 'Raging Death at Lake Bloodbath Five' but I can stand here and watch _that_?"

Laughter and teasing erupted from the children as they padded off to sit on the couch in front of the television, leaving Elliot and Olivia, still lost in each other, celebrating the fact that _Elliot's_ wish had just come true with another kiss under the mistletoe.

**A/N: Only two more days! I'm going to start working on a series of New Year's Eve stories, I think… Your thoughts???**


	19. A Mom For Christmas One Shot

**A/N: A story I came up with while watching "A Mom For Christmas" but still VERY different from it. Enjoy. It's another 'vignette' piece.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters are owned by Dick Wolf. Story, dialogue and narrative owned and protected by TStabler©**

_December 10th_

"Dad," Dickie yelled, running into the kitchen. "You need to read Eli's Christmas list!"

Elliot blinked and stared at his eldest son. "Dickie, Eli is only three years old! How did he make a Christmas list?"

Dickie sighed and rolled his eyes. "Lizzie and I helped him, duh! We asked what he wanted and if he knew, he just said it if he could. If he couldn't, we pointed to things and pictures of toys and stuff and he said 'yes' or 'no' or the name of what he saw in the picture."

"Oh," Elliot said with a chuckle. "That was very nice of you."

Dickie huffed. "Thanks, but Dad, there are only _two_ things on his list, and they mean the _same thing_ to him. We only pointed to _one _picture and he said _both _of those words."

Dickie handed his father the list he and his sister made for his little brother and Elliot dropped the glass of orange juice he'd had in his hand. In Lizzie's twelve year old script, she'd interpreted that Eli wanted a mom for Christmas. A mom named "Wivia."

_December 13th_

"Okay, you have to stop, Stabler. If _I've_ noticed, then _she's_ noticed and _she'll_ kick your ass from here to Chinatown," Munch said in a harsh whisper. He was taking the opportunity to scold Elliot while Olivia was getting more files from the cabinet.

"Stop what?" Elliot asked.

Munch rolled his sunglass covered eyes. "Staring at her! Look, I know there's something going on between you two, I'm not blind. Almost three years and you thing I'm not gonna figure it out? Cragen hasn't noticed cause you two are slick. I'm not gonna tell him because you need her and your kids need her, but Cap _is_ gonna figure it out on his own, today, if you keep trying to bore _holes_ into her head with your loving gaze!"

Elliot balked. Then he paled, and coughed, and cleared his throat. "I wasn't staring at her...was I?"

"Yes," Fin said, without looking up from the DD5 he was signing.

"Well, uh, I was just...um, just thinking. Can you two keep a secret?" Elliot asked. He leaned in and when he had finished telling them his idea, and Olivia came back to sit at her desk, they were _all_ staring at her.

"Okay, what?" she asked.

They all, in unison, still staring, said "Nothing, Liv," and smirked at her.

_December 18th_

"Okay, Maureen, now add the peppers and the onions. Good! See? This isn't hard," Olivia said into the phone. At the same time, she was doing the same thing on Elliot's stove, with the help of Lizzie and Kathleen, who were having a blast. "No, honey, only if you want to kill your taste buds. You're making sausage and peppers not sausage and jalapeños! Those are for the taco sauce I'm helping you make tomorrow and you only use one at a time!"

Elliot, watching from the doorway, was stupefied. Olivia was teaching his daughter, a freshman in college, how to cook for herself over the phone, and cooking with his other two girls right in front of him. Up until recently, cooking was something he didn't even know Olivia _could_ do. "Okay, add the sausage that you've cut up. Uh-huh, and you're good to go! Just let it sit there and stir it every few minutes until the peppers soften, the onions turn clear and all the sausage is completely brown. Trust me, pink sausage is an even prettier shade of pink coming back up."  
Olivia laughed into the phone and then gasped. "Oh, uh, I love you, too, Mo." She hung up and put the phone down on the counter.

"Great," she muttered. "First time she says the L-word and I can't tell if I'm crying because of that or the damn onions."

Elliot came in and wrapped his arms around her. "Could be a bit of both, huh?"

She nodded and threw the sausage in the pan, hearing it sizzle. Elliot turned her chin up to face him. "Maureen's not the only one who loves you, Liv."

"I know, El. I love you, too," she said softly with a smile as the girls, plus Elliot, finished cooking.

_December 20th_

Elliot had been gone for an hour and Olivia was watching the twins and Eli. Some stupid function that he had promised Fin he would go to with him. She was walking through the hallway, carrying a laundry basket, when she almost broke her neck on one of Dickie's skateboards. Why the kid needed five, she had no idea.

"Richard Anthony Stabler!" Elliot heard her yell as he walked in the door. He treaded lightly, and wanted to watch how Dickie would handle this. Actually, since Olivia didn't have a mom who gave two shits, he was curious as to how she would, too.

Dickie ran down the stairs and stood in front of Olivia, who was holding the skateboard between her thumb and forefinger, letting it dangle, with her other hand on her hip. "Um...yeah, Liv?"

"Honey, why was this lying in the middle of the hallway? Do you see a half-pipe in this house?"

"Um, no," he said, biting his lip and kicking his feet around.

"Neither do I. I'm not Tony Hawk, Dickie, so I can't _build _you one. Therefore, there is _no_ skating _in _the _house_. Go _put _this _away_ because I almost _died!_" She picked the basket of clothes back up and waited.

Dickie took the board out of Olivia's hands ands smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Liv." He was halfway up the stairs when he stopped, put the board down, turned around and ran back down. "Liv?"

"Yeah, Dickie?"

He didn't say anything. He just threw his arms around her, held on for a moment and then let go to whizz back up the stairs, grabbing his board along the way.

Olivia smirked and shook her head and moved to start folding the clothes just as Elliot began to enter the room, when Eli began to wail. Olivia dropped the basket and ran to his room, with Elliot close behind her.

"Eli, sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked the poor tyke, who was reaching for her.

Eli wiggled his arms and only calmed when he was safely ensconced in Olivia's embrace. "Bad sweep. Wivia, hug."

"Okay, yeah. I'm hugging you, kid." Olivia began to rock him gently, from side to side, as he clutched onto her, over her shoulder. "Bad sleep?" she asked. "Dream? You had a bad dream?"

"Yes. Dweam. Bad." Eli said with a nod. Elliot came in further, wanting to hear what his son had dreamed about that had scared him so badly.

Olivia held on tighter and soothed him, rubbing his back and stroking the back of his head and the nape of his neck. "What did you dream of, baby?"

"Wivia, bye-bye." he cried. "No! No, bye-bye, Wivia!"

"Shh! Eli, sweetie, as long as you guys need me, I am not going bye-bye," she declared. She held him out in front of her to wipe away the tears that had fallen. "How long do _are _you gonna need me, Eli?"

"How about forever?" She turned around to face the voice that had answered. It was definitely not Eli's.

_December 24th_

"Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring. Not even a..."

"Wino!" Eli cried.

"Okay," Olivia said with a laugh. "Not even a rhino. The stockings were hung by the chimney with..."

"Tape!" Eli interrupted again, poking Olivia in the nose.

She giggled. "All right, then, young Dickens. The stockings were hung by the chimney with _tape _in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their..."

Eli tugged on his foot as he said, "Socks!"

Olivia chuckled. "As visions of sugar plums danced in their..."

Eli squealed, "Potty!"

"Okay, now that's just weird, kid. As visions of sugar plums danced in their potty?" she asked nuzzling the boy in her lap.

"No, mom. Potty. Go. Potty." He wiggled off of her lap and Elliot got up off of his chair to take him. "Oh, you have to _go_ to the...what did you call me?"

Elliot had heard it, and had just realized it then, too. "Um...I'm gonna take him before he has an accident, Liv. We'll be right back."

Lizzie, Dickie, Kathleen and Maureen, home from school, were all staring at her, trying to gauge her reaction. "Well, um, I think I should..." Olivia said, rising to her feet.

"Liv, where are you going?" Kathleen asked, heartbroken and afraid.

Olivia sighed. She was going to tell them now. She couldn't wait. "When someone else's son starts calling you mom, I think it means..."

"I think it means he loves you, Liv." Maureen said. "Eli was only a baby when mom took off. He doesn't remember her, at all, and thank God for that because he's only three and the only memory he _would_ have of her is of the back of her head as she walked out of the door. But, Liv, you walked _in _the _minute _she left and have been here, every moment since. Cooking, and cleaning, and keeping dad, and our family, in one piece."

"Liv, _you're_ the one that's changed his diapers and his clothes and given him baths and read him stories," Lizzie added.

"You taught him his ABC's and how to count. _You _were here with dad when he crawled and took his first steps and said his first word," Dickie said.

Olivia laughed as a tear fell. "Bite," she said, remembering.

Dickie laughed and continued. "See? And you're here when he wakes up in the morning and you're here when he goes to sleep at night," Dickie said. "Liv, you _are_ the kid's mother."

"It's the same with us, actually," Kathleen added. "If we weren't so afraid you'd freak out, like you, uh, just _did_, we'd call you 'mom', too. Well, if Dad would smarten up and ask you to marry him already."

Olivia was crying. Big, beautiful, tears. She pulled all four kids into a hug and shot a glance at Elliot, who was standing behind them, crying as much as she was, with Eli in his arms. "Wivia? Bye-bye? No! Mom!" Eli squirmed out of Elliot's hands and jumped to floor and ran over to Olivia. She swooped him up and nuzzled his nose.

"No, baby. No, bye-bye," she said as Elliot walked over and put his arm around her.

"You...weren't getting up to leave?" Maureen asked, a look of confusion and embarrassment on her face.

Olivia shook her head. "No. I was going to check on Eli and your dad, and _then _I was _going_ to say that when someone else's son starts calling you 'mom', it means you should _probably_ marry his father. And then I was going to show you _this,_" she said as she held out her left hand. The most beautiful diamond ring sparkled in the light of the living room. "But then you all jumped down my throat. Why would you _ever_ think I'd leave you?"

"We, uh...it's just that..." Dickie started.

Lizzie finished. "It's happened before."

"I'm not..." She was going to say "I'm not your mother" but, when it came down to it, she was, wasn't she? "I'm not Kathy. I love you. All of you. So much. I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

The kids cheered and hugged their _parents_. Elliot looked down at Eli and said, "Hey, kid, you and I got our presents a little early, huh?"

Eli nodded, pointed to Olivia and said, "Mom."

**A/N: So, the person who hated Christmas at the beginning of this story was Eli, if you couldn't figure that out. What'd you think? **


	20. Games People Play One Shot

**A/N: Holiday goodness for Christmas Eve! Be on the lookout for the New Year's fic series starting the 26th! **

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters belong to Dick Wolf. Storyline, plot and dialogue belong to TStabler©.**

Elliot Stabler usually loved Christmas Eve, but for the fast few years, things were different. Christmases started going sour toward the end of his marriage. The last four years of it, especially. He found himself choosing presents for the kids, and picking out expensive, elegant jewelry for his best friend and partner, Olivia, and then realizing on Christmas Eve that he'd forgotten all about Kathy, his wife. Four years of gift-cards later and Elliot hated the holiday. Two years ago, his first Christmas as a single man, he thought, to cheer himself up, and maybe brighten _another _Grinch's mood, he'd invite Olivia over to spend Christmas with him and the kids.

Well, she tried to get into the spirit of things, for their sake. She helped them bake and decorated burnt cookies, which Elliot lovingly called "Cajun" and then read to Eli before helping Elliot tuck him in. They spent the better part of the evening talking by the fire, with cocoa and a warm blanket, but fell asleep at some point and woke up cuddled together in a compromising but comfortable position. Elliot kissed her on Christmas morning, changing their relationship forever. They faced problems at work, as a result, but things worked out in the end.

Last year, his first Christmas _with_ Olivia, from the _beginning_, was a joy to watch. Olivia helped choose and wrap the gifts, she baked cookies that did not have any black or brown edges, she not only helped the family pick and cut down the tree, but she helped decorate it and hoisted Eli up to put the star on. Elliot _finally_ had Christmas back, and it was all because _she _had given it to him.

This year, however, he was back to hating it. Elliot was a nervous wreck. See, Elliot and Olivia, though only a real couple for two years, had been partners, friends, best friends for nine. In those nine years, it was painfully obvious to everyone, including themselves, that they were deeply, madly and irrevocably in love and they had a bond, a connection that was stronger and more powerful than any magnet in the world.

So, being who he is, impulsive, egotistical, King-of-the-world, Elliot decided that he was going to propose. On Christmas. With the help of his kids. He had to tell them. Ask them really. And they were overjoyed! They all loved Olivia very much and they told their father that they would do anything to help him ask her to be his wife, to be their mother. They just never said they'd keep it a secret.

Olivia was sitting on the floor with Dickie and Lizzie, wrapping last minute gifts, when Elliot came home. He had a dozen roses, a bottle of wine and a black box in his pocket, begging to be opened, but' he knew he'd have to wait. "Hey, honey," Olivia said looking up at him as she strolled into the living room. He leaned down to kiss her and handed her the flowers. "For me? What for?"

"I love you. It was a good enough reason for me," he said, winking. He couldn't wait anymore. He was getting itchy and nervous. He walked over to the bottom of the stairs and yelled up, "Hey, Maureen! Kathleen! Get down here, it's family game time!" Elliot took off his coat and jacket, hanging them on the coat rack, and rolled up his sleeves. "Where's Eli?"

"Playing in his room. I'll get him," Dickie said.

Family games were a Christmas Eve tradition in the Stabler house. It gave them a chance to spend some time together, laughing and joking, and feeling like their problems, if they didn't have any, didn't exist. Dickie came back holding Eli's hand and a bag of toy alphabet blocks. Maureen and Kathleen came bounding down the stairs. When they were all settled on the couch and chairs around the fireplace, Kathleen asked, "What are we playing first?"

"Oh! Charades!" Dickie yelled. "I got a good one!" He leaped up and before he even did anything Lizzie yelled "A League of Their Own."

"How did you know?" Dickie asked as he sat back down.

"Because you _always _do 'A League of Their own'." She stood up and took her place in the center and held up her hands like she was reading.

Maureen yelled, "A book! It's a book!" Lizzie nodded. She then held up seven fingers. "Seven words!" Kathleen cried. Lizzie nodded again. She then swooshed her around like she was waving a baton.

"'Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets'!" Olivia yelled, throwing a hand in the air. "Good one, Liv! But how did you know it wasn't 'Prisoner of Azkaban' or the 'Half-Blood Prince'?"

"'Half-Blood' is one word, it's just hyphenated, and 'Chamber of Secrets' is your favorite," Olivia said, starting to get up.

Elliot stopped her. "Liv, I got a really good one. Can I uh, go before you?"

All of the kids looked at each other, knowingly, with matching Stabler-grins. "Uh, sure, El. Go ahead."

"Okay," he said. He cleared his throat, rubbed his hands together and started. He held up four fingers. "Four words," Dickie said. Elliot nodded. Elliot, then, held up one finger. "First word," Maureen said, grinning. Again, Elliot nodded. He started to make a writing motion, like he was signing something. Olivia and the kids were shouting, "writing", "novel", "author", "DD5", "paperwork". Elliot then pretended to choke himself and stuck his tongue out of his mouth. There were laughs and then more shouting. "Death", "dying", "strangled", "hanging", "What Olivia's going to do to you if you ever cheat on her", Elliot stopped and made a face at Kathleen. "What? It's the truth!" Kathleen said, defending her guess. Then, Elliot went back to writing, but as if he were dead while doing it. "Oh! Will!" Olivia yelled. Elliot touched his nose and pointed at her.

"Okay, so the first word is 'will'," Dickie reminded everyone.

Elliot nodded. Then he held up three fingers. "Third word," Lizzie said. Elliot pointed to his left ring finger. "Finger, hand, touch, ring, wedding ring, marry," Maureen rattled off, trying to get to the point, helping her father. Elliot touched his noise and pointed at her and winked. "Okay," Kathleen said. "So we have 'will' and 'marry'."

Olivia gasped. She squealed. She got it! "Will got married! That's fantastic!" Then she blinked. "Who the heck is Will?"

"Let him finish, Liv," Dickie said laughing. "It's four words, remember?" He smirked at Olivia who smirked right back.

Elliot held up four fingers. "Fourth word," Olivia said. Elliot nodded and then pointed to himself. Olivia scoffed. "Oh, easy, hot! Cop! Sexy! Hunky!" Elliot blushed, and shook his head. "You, uh...me?" Lizzie said. Elliot jumped and clapped. "Okay, so we've got 'will', 'marry' and 'me'. Hmmm," Dickie said. "Gee , Dad, this is hard." Elliot thwacked his son in the head. Then held up two fingers. "Second word," Maureen shouted, getting terribly excited.

Elliot, reached into his pocket and clutched the black box. He took a deep breath, looked right at her, and pointed to Olivia. With tears in her eyes, she sucked in a breath and said, "Me."

"Yeah," Elliot said, bending down on one knee in front of her. "You. All four words." He pulled the box out of his pocket and flipped it open, and watched as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "Will you marry me?"

She looked up into his incredible blue eyes, and kissed him with all of the love and devotion she felt. She pulled away, but instead of giving him an answer, she turned around to Eli, who was playing with his blocks.

"Eli, sweetie, could you bring a couple of those blocks over here, please?" she asked, much to Elliot's confusion. "Block?" Eli asked holding up a wooden cube. "Yes, honey. Yes," Olivia said to the child.

"Liv, I just asked..."

"I know you did," she said interrupting him. Eli ran over to Olivia, his tiny legs carrying him awkwardly and he handed her one, single block. Then he ran back to the bag. She handed Elliot the block, turning it to face him so he could see the letter Y. "Liv, baby, I don't want to play with Eli's blocks...I..."

Olivia kissed him again. "Shut up, you're ruining the moment." Eli came padding back with a giggle and handed Olivia another block, which she in turn, gave to Elliot. He flipped it over and revealed the letter E. Eli ran back to the bag of blocks and picked up another block. "I swear, Liv, I'm dying here."

"El, I'm answering you," she said, taking the block from Eli's hand and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you, baby." The little boy giggled and said, "Welcome, Mama," before running away to finish his block tower. Olivia looked up at Elliot, and handed him the last block. He turned it over and a tear rolled down his cheek when he saw the letter S staring back at him.

"You taught him how to spell, he called you 'Mama,' _and_ you said yes." He pulled Olivia into his arms and kissed her with everything he had. As he pulled away, looking deeply into her eyes, he rubbed his nose against hers gently and said, "Christmas just can't get any better."

Olivia peered down at the sparkling gem on her hand, then back up at him. "Never say never, El."

"Wait," he said. "You knew, didn't you? You had to teach Eli how to spell 'yes' so you could answer..." She cut him off with a searing kiss.

They pulled apart and she nuzzled him. "You should know better than to trust your kids with a secret, Elliot. You know they just run and tell me. Why do you think I didn't tell them I'm pregnant? I knew they'd run and tell you."

"Oh, well, yeah. You have a point...wait...what?" Elliot's face lit up brighter than the star on their tree. He ran one of the hands that was cupping her face down her body and rested it on her belly. "So, I _was_ wrong before."

Olivia laughed. "Yeah, you told me I was eating too many..."

"No," he said with a chuckle. "When I said Christmas couldn't get any better. Oh, baby, it just did," he said as he picked her up and spun her around. When she landed on her feet, and he wrapped his arms around her, they looked at their family, happily playing Scrabble, and knew _exactly_ how to tell them. "Hey, guys," Elliot said. "Olivia never got to do her charade."

**A/N: We have family game night, but it was never that much fun! Reviews?**


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